


Given Every Second Chance

by enigmaticblue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bisexual Character, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-09 01:53:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 52,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17397854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: Dean is beginning to think he might have a stalker, but the guy is so cute, he doesn’t really mind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Fluff. SO MUCH FLUFF. ALL THE FLUFF.
> 
> Look, there are some shenanigans. If you’re worried about it, see the end for more notes. This was written prior to the start of S14 so it’s non-canon compliant after the S13 finale. Let me just say that I’ve been waiting to use this title for AGES. Title from the Jennifer Knapp song, “Fallen”

 

“Even though they say we have fallen  
Doesn't mean that I won't do it twice  
And given every second chance  
I choose again to be with you tonight

 

"Sorry" is often told but hardly ever done  
Not with you my love, not with you my love  
All the ancient stories that hold a bitter end  
Not with you my friend, not with you my friend

 

I lift you up like a loving cup  
Pour down on all the world  
And if the fable's strong enough  
We'll drink more than our share.”

 

~ Jennifer Knapp, “Fallen”

 

**Now**

 

Dean groans and pulls his pillow over his head as his alarm goes off. He knows better than to go out drinking with Roger on the night before a shift, but Roger said they needed the chance to release some stress after their summer chem exam. Dean hadn’t tied one on in months, and that was his last final before fall classes start.

 

Still, he has second shift, and he’s supposed to meet up with Charlie for dinner. He’s a bit hungover, but he’ll be fine by the time he clocks in.

 

Dean crawls out of bed and into the shower, where the hot water revives him. He secures a towel around his waist and shaves, running some product through his hair and making a mental note to get a haircut. He’s been so busy with his courses and shifts that he’s looking a little shaggy.

 

He pulls on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and checks his phone for messages. He has a voicemail from his mom. “Dean, I’m going to be out of town this weekend. If you could stop by and water the plants, I’d appreciate it.” There’s a pause. “Be careful, honey.”

 

Dean sighs and rolls his eyes. He’s pretty sure his mom doesn’t leave Sam messages telling _him_ to be careful.

 

And it’s pretty rich, given that he’s pretty damn sure his mom is on a hunting trip this weekend.

 

“Back atcha, Mom,” Dean mutters.

 

The second message is from Charlie. “Dean, we’d better still be on for dinner today. I haven’t seen you in _days_. Don’t make me hunt you down.”

 

Dean laughs. Charlie has been the best part of him going back to school. She might have been Sam’s friend first, but Sam left for school and lost touch, and Dean sees her all the time.

 

Or, if not all the time, at least as often as his schedule allows.

 

He dials Charlie’s number. “Yeah, we’re on,” he says as soon as she answers.

 

“Great! The usual place?” she asks.

 

“Is there any other?” Dean responds.

 

Charlie snorts. “One day, I’m going to get you to try that vegetarian place.”

 

“You’re very funny,” Dean says dryly. “My shift starts at 7.”

 

“When are you going to tell your mom that you’re not working fire and rescue anymore?” Charlie asks.

 

“And give her the satisfaction of knowing I’m not running into burning buildings so I can go back to school to be a trauma nurse?” Dean asks. “No thanks. She’ll find out eventually.”

 

Charlie laughs. “And then she’ll be pissed you didn’t tell her.”

 

“Like how she was pissed all those other times I didn’t fulfill her every dream for my life?”

 

“Your mom just wants you to be happy,” Charlie argues. “You know, being a doctor or an engineer or something.”

  
Dean sighs. “Yeah, I know. She’s a great mom, she’s just a little much to take sometimes. I have to water her plants this weekend.”

 

“Is she doing that thing I’m not supposed to know she does?” Charlie asks.

 

“Yeah, probably,” Dean replies. “Which makes her telling me to be careful a little rich. Pretty sure she called at a time she could leave a message because she didn’t want to hear what I’d have to say.”

 

Charlie makes a sympathetic noise. “Come to dinner, and I’ll let you whine all you want.”

 

“I’m done,” Dean replies. “See you in a while.”

 

It’s late afternoon, and Dean has a few errands to run. He stops by the store for a few groceries, picks up his mail from his PO box, gets a haircut, and stops by the campus bookstore to resell his old textbooks. That puts a little money back in his pocket, anyway, although he plans to save it for books for the next semester.

 

From there, he heads to the diner to meet Charlie.

 

She’s already there, sitting in a corner booth, although she hops up as soon as she sees him. “Dean! How’d the finals go?”

 

“Pretty good, I think, although I won’t have my grades back for a while,” Dean replies. “Hopefully, they’ll be good enough that I won’t have to retake anything.”

 

“Are you worried about that?” Charlie asks, sitting down across from him, tucking her red hair behind her ears.

 

Dean shrugs. “The worry never really goes away. You know I was no better than an average student in high school, and I’m going to need to have a lot better grades than that to get into nursing school.”

 

“You’re going to do it,” Charlie says easily. “You’re an awesome EMT, and you’re going to be an awesome nurse. They’ll be lucky to have you.”

 

Dean smiles. “You’re good for my ego, you know that?”

 

Charlie rolls her eyes. “Like your ego needs help.”

 

But he knows she doesn’t mean it. Charlie, more than anyone, knows exactly what goes on in Dean’s head on a regular basis.

 

A guy sitting at the counter of the old-fashioned diner catches Dean’s eye. He’s cute, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, with messy brown hair and blue eyes, probably around Dean’s age.

 

Charlie follows his gaze. “He’s cute, if you swing that way.”

 

“Which I do,” Dean replies, then shrugs. “Not that I have time to date these days.”

 

“You shouldn’t let that stop you,” Charlie protests. “Go over there, flirt, get his number.”

 

“I have a couple of weeks until classes start, and I want to chill,” Dean protests. “I don’t have time for cute anything.”

 

Charlie beams at him. “Not even me?”

 

“I’m not walking into that one,” Dean replies. He glances back over, and cute guy is paying his tab. “Besides, he might just be passing through.”

 

“You’ve never passed up a one-night stand before,” Charlie points out.

 

Dean gives her a look. “Sure I have. I’ve passed up a lot of them. I just happen to attract a lot of people.”

 

Although most of them don’t see who Dean really is. They just see his pretty face, or maybe his uniform.

 

“And I would totally do you if you were my type,” Charlie replies.

 

Dean laughs. “What about you? How’s the summer job?”

 

“The summer job pays very well,” Charlie replies. “And I get a chance to play with cyber security. One of these days, I’ll have my own security firm.”

 

“I believe you,” Dean replies.

 

They get their meals—the club for Charlie, a bacon cheeseburger for Dean—and bullshit the rest of the time. Charlie tells Dean about the crazy people she works with and some roommate stories, and Dean tells her about the calls he’s been out on in the last couple of weeks.

 

He had better stories when he worked for the fire department, like the kid who got his head stuck between the rails of the bannister, and they had to douse him with cooking oil to get him loose, because the babysitter was worried about damaging the rails. These days, he works for one of the area hospitals. There are a lot of patient transfers, maybe a few emergency calls, but it’s not as exciting.

 

But it’s more regular hours than his time at the fire department, and he can attend classes and get his degree.

 

Dean checks his watch and realizes that he needs to take off. “Hey, I have to go. See you later?”

 

“You got it.” Charlie busses his cheek. “Go be awesome.”

 

“I always am,” Dean replies. “See you Saturday?”

 

“You know it,” Charlie replies. “I expect you to bring your A-game.”

 

Dean bows. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

 

She grins at him. “You are dismissed.”

 

Dean throws down enough money to cover his bill and heads out. As he leaves the diner, he pauses, seeing someone he thinks is Cute Guy from the Counter. But there’s no one there, so he ends up just heading to work.

 

Once he decided to go back to school, staying at the fire department had been out of the question, as much as he loved it. The hours hadn’t been bad, but the structure of their time on call—24 hours on, and then a day or two off—meant that there was no way he could do college courses. Online classes didn’t cover everything, and Dean needed more regular hours.

 

It’s less exciting, but Dean can squeeze in his homework between shifts.

 

He changes into his uniform at the hospital, and spends the next twelve hours driving the bus. There’s one car accident they respond to, plus a report of a child in danger. The kid—just over a year, and otherwise healthy—appeared to be seizing, but is fine by the time Dean and his partner show up.

 

The mother is beside herself. “I’m so sorry for calling,” she says over and over, her dark eyes red and puffy from crying. “I just didn’t know what to do. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she’s never done that before, and I just—”

 

Dean steers her over to the couch. “Ma’am, this was a very good night for us. We show up, and everybody is okay. Call your pediatrician tomorrow, but right now, she’s fine. Try to get some sleep tonight.”

 

She starts to cry again, her head dropping so that her mousy brown hair covers her face. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being ridiculous.”

 

Dean pats her on the shoulder, used to tears by now. “You’re not. You had a shock, and you’re feeling relief. That’s completely normal. Just take some deep breaths for me.”

 

Once she’s breathing normally, and they double check the kid, Dean and Sarah are on their way. “I hate calls with kids, but this wasn’t so bad,” Sarah comments, stretching out her legs in the passenger seat.

 

Dean points the bus back towards the hospital. “False alarms are pretty great.”

 

“You think there’s anything wrong with her?” Sarah asks.

 

Dean shrugs. “Maybe she’s got colic? Maybe she’s just got a virus or something, but her vitals were good, she was responsive, and she laughed when I tried playing peekaboo with her.”

 

Sarah snorts. “Is anyone immune to your charm, Winchester?”

 

“Lesbians,” Dean says seriously. “Lesbians are completely immune to my charms, you and Charlie being examples. And I’m totally setting you up, by the way.”

 

“You are _not_ setting me up just because you happen to know two lesbians,” Sarah replies, her tone severe. “I’m training for a marathon, and you’re going to be dressing up and sword fighting this weekend.”

 

“You can do both!” Dean protests. “I think you’d enjoy it if you gave it a shot.”

 

He really thinks it’s a shame she won’t go for it, because she’s Charlie’s type—petite, fit, dark hair, dark eyes, and a little older than Dean. She’s smart and funny, and she could kick Dean’s ass six ways from Sunday.

 

Considering that he and Charlie share a taste in women, he’s pretty sure Charlie will like her.

 

Sarah rolls her eyes. “I cannot believe you’re such a geek.”

 

At least she doesn’t call him a nerd, Dean thinks. “I am a well-rounded individual, I’ll have you know,” he replies. “And Charlie is cute.”

 

“I know, I’ve seen pictures,” Sarah replies. “She’s very cute.”

 

“So?”

 

“So, I’m running a marathon,” Sarah replies. “And unlike you, my dream is to be a firefighter, so I’m training for that, too. I don’t have time to date.”

 

“You and me both,” Dean replies.

 

Sarah jumps on that comment like a duck on a junebug. “Spill. If you don’t have time to date, that must mean there’s someone you _want_ to date.”

 

Trust her to pick up on that comment. “No, but there was a cute guy at the diner tonight when I met Charlie for dinner. It’s no big deal.”

 

“Did you try to pick him up?” Sarah presses.

 

“I’m _trying_ to get into nursing school, so no,” Dean replies. “He was cute, he paid and left before we were finished, and I’ll probably never see him again.”

 

“What if you do?” Sarah asks. “Are you going to ask him out then?”

 

“Only if I know he’s interested,” Dean replies. “I don’t really care for getting punched in the face for hitting on a straight dude.”

 

Sarah makes a face. “Straight dudes are the worst.”

 

Dean barks out a laugh. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

 

“You’ve never been hit on by one,” Sarah replies darkly.

 

Dean considers that. “True. Although I have been punched in the face by one.”

 

“Is this the fight you got into in high school?” Sarah asks.

 

Dean shrugs. “The end of high school. I survived.”

 

Sarah frowns. “I thought you were out.”

 

“To most people, yeah, but my mom and brother don’t know,” Dean replies.

 

Sarah grimaces. “I get that.”

 

“Your folks are in Georgia, right?” Dean asks.

 

She nods. “Yeah. Atlanta. The market was oversaturated, so I moved here.”

 

Dean doesn’t press for more information. He’s only been working with Sarah for a few months, since the beginning of the summer when he took the job. He doesn’t want to talk about his relationship with his mom, or his dad’s death, or the other secrets in his past, and the best way to not talk about that sort of thing is to not ask questions.

 

“Look, once you’ve got your coursework done, let me know,” Dean says. “I can introduce you to a few people.”

 

“Thanks, man,” Sarah replies. “You’re good people.”

 

Dean smiles. “Yeah, you, too.”

 

**Then**

 

“You want to what? I thought you were going go community college to get a jumpstart on your general electives!”

 

Dean winces. He knew his mom wouldn’t respond well when she found out what he was seeking his degree in. “Mom, I told you, I want to be an EMT. Fire and rescue is my goal.”

 

“You want to run into burning buildings?” she asks incredulously, holding up Dean’s transcript from the community college where he’s been taking extra classes. If he takes enough of them, he can get certified as an EMT before he graduates. He’s already training so he can pass the physical portion of the exam.

 

He just wants to save people, and this seems like the best chance he has. Even if his mom hates the idea.

 

“I want to help people,” Dean finally says. “I can do that as a firefighter.”

 

“By putting your life on the line!” his mom says. “Dean, after what happened to your father—”

 

“He’s why I want to do it!” Dean says, unable to keep his tone even. “What if someone had been there? What if fire and rescue had been there right away?”

 

“You can’t ask that question,” Mary replies. “Dean, you can’t ask that.”

 

Dean frowns. “Why not? Because of what you do on your off hours? Do you know something you’re not telling me?”

 

He’s suspected as much for the last few months, but Mary has never confirmed it.

 

The front door opens, and Mary’s mouth firms into a hard line. “We’ll talk about this later.”

 

“Not if I can help it,” Dean mutters, but only because Sam is home. There are some things that he and Mary don’t discuss in front of his younger brother, and Dean isn’t sure whether he’s grateful or resentful of that fact at the moment.

 

But Mary can’t call him out with Sam around.

 

“What’s going on?” Sam asks as he enters the kitchen, still in his gear from soccer practice.

 

Mary smiles. “Nothing, sweetheart, it was just a disagreement.” She drops a kiss on his forehead. “How was practice?”

 

“I think we have a shot this year,” Sam enthuses. “We have some really good players on our team. What’s for dinner?”

 

Mary gives Dean a look, and he grimaces. It’s his turn to cook. “Spaghetti okay?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Sam says, offhandedly. “Cool.”

 

“I’ll be upstairs,” Mary replies.

 

Dean is pretty sure that she’s going to be doing that thing she doesn’t want him to know she does, reaching out to other hunters, getting information about problems in the area. She’ll say she’s doing it to keep them safe, but Dean suspects that she wants the adrenaline rush just as much.

 

Not that he blames her. He wrestles, and he wants to be a fireman. He likes the rush, too.

 

People tell Dean that he’s just like his mom, and that Sam is like John. But his mom drives him crazy, and he doesn’t have enough memories of his dad to know one way or the other.

 

Dean starts the water boiling for the pasta and gets the hamburger out of the fridge. It’s not fancy, but it’s better than Sam usually comes up with. When it’s Sam’s turn, it’s usually a frozen pizza.

 

Dean takes the time to make a salad and garlic bread to go with it, and when it’s ready, he hollers up the stairs to Mary and Sam.

 

“’s good,” Sam mutters between bites.

 

“It is good,” Mary says, in that perfectly even tone Dean hates.

 

Dean shrugs. “It’s not that special.”

 

“The garlic bread is _really_ good,” Sam says, reaching out for another slice.

 

Mary unbends enough to smile. “It is really good.”

 

“That’s what fresh garlic and butter will do for you,” Dean says. He’s been trying a few things, although none of them are adventurous eaters.

 

Hell, his mom isn’t much of a cook, although Dean doesn’t hold it against her. His mom knows where to find the good stuff, whether it’s from the grocery store or somewhere else.

 

Which is maybe where Sam gets it.

 

Dean heads upstairs after dinner to work on his homework, leaving Sam and Mary to do the dishes. He has math and English, plus a pre-rec course from the community college in fire science.

 

“Hey,” Sam says, poking his head into Dean’s bedroom. “Were you and Mom fighting earlier?”

 

“It’s not a big deal,” Dean replies. “Mom doesn’t like my chosen major at the community college, nosy.”

 

“You could try getting along with her,” Sam points out.

 

Dean sneers at him. “You could try being less of a brown-noser.”

 

Sam sticks out his tongue.

 

Dean sighs. He really can’t wait until he can get out of the house.

 

**Now**

 

Technically, Cas should have left Dean alone as soon as he knew Dean was safe. That’s all he wanted, to know that Dean is okay.

 

It’s a very different world. Cas hasn’t seen any signs of other angels, nor has he seen anything indicating demonic activity. Dean is living in his own apartment, Sam is nowhere to be seen, and Mary appears to be an ordinary single mother with a rather extraordinary hobby of hunting things that show up around Lawrence.

 

Cas should leave, find a job and a life somewhere else, but Chuck somehow arranged for him to have a place to live and a job in town, working at the university library. It provides a bit of cover for his stalking.

 

And Cas knows that’s what he’s doing. He can’t bring himself to contact Dean, but he can’t leave him alone either.

 

He finds reasons to be where he knows Dean will be: the grocery store, the post office, the gym, the diner.

 

Cas tries not to stare; he tries not to “be weird,” as Dean would say. Lawrence isn’t a big town, and it’s not beyond the realm of possibility that they’d run into each other. Cas doesn’t live far from Dean, and maybe that’s Chuck’s doing, and maybe it’s happenstance.

 

And then he runs right into Dean at the diner early one Saturday morning. Cas hadn’t even been trying to be close to Dean, he just wanted food that he hadn’t made himself.

 

Dean is coming in while Cas is leaving and not looking where he’s going. “Oh, hey, sorry, man,” Dean says quickly, easily. “I didn’t see you there. You okay?”

 

Castiel looks into clear green eyes and sees a man who is innocent of so much—of shedding blood, of torture, of a hundred terrible decisions. What few lines there are around his mouth and eyes are borne of laughter, and his strong hand on Cas’ shoulder steadies him.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dean repeats.

 

Castiel looks at him and _wants_ with a depthless longing. “I am. Thank you. I’m sorry.”

 

And then he hurries away.

 

~~~~~

 

Dean watches Cute Guy from the Counter hurry away, and he doesn’t think he’s imagining the dude’s interest in him. Dean has been around the block a time or two, and he knows how to judge attraction. Cute Guy is interested with a capital I, but Dean isn’t quite sure how to read him.

 

He rushed away, but not without a lingering over-the-shoulder look, which means that Cute Guy liked what he saw. _Maybe he’s not out_ , Dean thinks.

 

Although he can’t quite shake the feeling that he knows the guy. The way he’d said “I’m sorry” wasn’t offhand. He spoke like he knew Dean, like his error was more than just a moment’s inattention.

 

Dean snorts. Now he’s reading into things too much, seeing conspiracies where none exist.

 

“Hey, Charlie,” he says, greeting her with a kiss on the hand. Their usual server catches Dean’s eye and indicates his order is on the way.

 

She gives him a look. “You’re out of uniform.”

 

“I’ll change later,” Dean replies. “I still have a couple of hours.”

 

Charlie is already wearing her dress, but she looks great in green velvet, very regal, and Dean isn’t interested in showing up at the diner in armor.  “I’m going to look past that and assume that you aren’t ashamed of Moondoor.”

 

“You know me better than that,” Dean replies. “I need fuel in order to best serve your highness, and that means pancakes. Do you know how hard it is to eat pancakes while in armor?”

 

Charlie laughs. “No, which is why I became a queen.”

 

“You are the only queen I recognize,” Dean replies extravagantly.

 

“You’re ridiculous,” Charlie replies, but she can’t keep the smile off her face. “This is why you get all the tail.”

 

Dean shrugs. “Not so much recently, but in theory, sure.”

 

“What’s up with you?” Charlie asks. “You’re unsettled.”

 

Dean thinks about the cute guy he keeps running into, the sense of déjà vu, but he doesn’t know how to explain it. “I don’t know.”

 

“And?”

 

“And I don’t know,” Dean replies. “Look, I’m probably just antsy for classes to start up again. I’ve been really busy, and then I wasn’t. It’s no big deal.”

 

Charlie narrows her eyes. “It seems like a big deal.”

 

“It’s not,” Dean insists.

 

“Seen the cute guy again?” Charlie asks.

 

Dean shrugs. “As a matter of fact, yes, and I think he might go to the university, or maybe he works there. He keeps turning up where I am, but we probably just have some things in common.”

 

“And he’s not stalking you?” Charlie counters.

 

Dean scoffs. “No way. Come on.”

 

“You’re stalkable,” Charlie replies. “You’re totally stalkable. Maybe he thinks you’re cute.”

 

“Well, if he does, he’s going to have to come right out and say it, because I don’t do subtlety,” Dean replies. “Life is too short for that.”

 

Charlie nods. “Then I guess we’d better go so you can get changed.”

 

Dean shovels another bite into his mouth. “I have breakfast to eat.”

 

“It’s not my fault you were late,” Charlie replies.

 

“I am your loyal knight who’s going to win your battle today,” Dean points out. “You could be a little nicer.”

 

“I’m sharpening your resolve,” Charlie replies.

 

Dean laughs. “Whatever. My honor is at stake, you don’t need to needle me.”

 

“Ask him out next time you run into him, and maybe I’ll stop,” Charlie says cheerfully. “You’re a lot more fun when you’re getting some.”

 

Dean glares at her. “Rude.”

 

“You said you didn’t appreciate subtlety.”

 

“I’m totally setting you and Sarah up,” Dean threatens. “You would either hate each other on sight or move in together after 24 hours, and I’m curious enough to find out.”

 

“And if we hate each other, you’d have to deal with two of your friends being at odds,” Charlie points out. “The queer community in Lawrence is not that big, you know.”

 

“You’re both adults,” Dean replies. “I’m just saying that if you’re going to match-make, I can return the favor.”

 

Charlie pouts at him. “You’re lucky you’re one of my favorite knights.”

 

“I’m your best knight, and your best shot at winning,” Dean counters. “Don’t even try to argue.”

 

Charlie shrugs. “The puppy dog eyes never worked on you.”

 

“Well, to be fair, I never thought sleeping with you was on the table,” Dean says. “You’ve been out since junior high.”

 

Charlie rolls her eyes. “Like you wanted to sleep with me.”

 

“I might have,” Dean protests. “ _If_ you hadn’t been Sam’s friend, and _if_ you were at least a little bit bi. I’m no patron saint of lost causes, which is why I’m leading your armies into battle.”

 

Charlie gives him a considering look. “I think you should grow a beard. It would give your character gravitas.”

 

“I have gravitas,” Dean objects. “It’s called kicking everybody’s ass.”

 

“And it would carry more weight with a beard,” Charlie argues. “Besides, it would be period appropriate, and it would be hot. Maybe Cute Guy would get over his shyness if you had a beard.”

 

“Maybe I’m fine with him being shy,” Dean protests.

 

Charlie’s still staring at him. “I really think the beard is a good idea.”

 

Dean is a sucker; he knows that. At least, he’s a sucker for Charlie, and she’s not wrong. The beard would fit his LARPing character. “I will try to grow a beard, but if it sucks, I’m shaving again.”

 

Charlie beams at him. “Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

 

Not for the first time, Dean thinks Charlie could probably convince him of just about anything.

 

~~~~~

 

Cas is curious about Dean’s life, about how he passes his time, since he’s not hunting anymore. He should be more cautious, especially after running into him, but his curiosity gets the better of him, and he trails Dean and Charlie once they leave the diner.

 

The event is apparently taking place at a local park, only a few blocks away from where they’d had breakfast. There are tents set up, and people are milling around in costume, although there are more than a few bystanders like Cas, who are wearing casual clothing and gawking at the spectacle.

 

Dean disappears into one of the tents, and Cas loses himself in the crowd. He’s not really sure what to expect, but he enjoys the atmosphere. After everything that’s happened, a day outside, under the sunny, blue sky, where there’s an excited murmur that’s completely innocent, is very enticing.

 

A hush falls over the crowd, and Cas watches as Charlie strides out, regal and composed, with Dean at her right shoulder. He’s changed into a costume, but he looks stalwart, rather than foolish. In chainmail and leather, a sword hanging at his side, Dean looks like the warrior he is.

 

Or was. Cas isn’t sure about that.

 

Dean kneels in front of Charlie, his hand over his heart, and she says something that Cas can’t hear. Others in armor are beginning to line up, and Dean rises and stands in front of them. “Our queen’s honor demands our victory today!” he shouts. “Fight as though your lives depend upon it! Fight for your queen! Fight for me!”

 

There’s a loud roar from those gathered, and the other fighters seem to be less organized, because they’re milling around a bit.

 

Someone on the other side yells, “Pansies!”

 

Dean bares his teeth in a fierce grin that Cas knows well. “Charge!”

 

Castiel has seen Dean fight before, and he’s seen him go into battle, but he has never seen Dean so joyous. Not for the first time, Castiel thinks that he’s beautiful—but he’s always thought of Dean as beautiful, and not just his physical form, but his soul.

 

Castiel raised the soul of the Righteous Man from perdition, and he’s never been the same.

 

Dean fights with joy and ferocity, and of course, his side wins. He kneels in front of Charlie once again and kisses her hand. When he rises, she kisses him on both cheeks and sweeps away, with Dean at her heels.

 

Castiel doesn’t quite understand the point of all of this, but Dean’s joy is obvious and infectious, and he can’t help but wish to be a part of it, to be at Dean’s side once again.

 

And with that impossible wish, Castiel heads home with a heavy heart.

 

**Then**

 

Dean can’t believe he let Mark drag him to this thing. Sure, he’s a closet geek, but the key word is closet. He remembers Sam talking about LARP-ing, although Sam had never been inclined in that direction.

 

At least he’s not the only newbie here, and he’s torn between admiration of the costumes he sees and secondhand embarrassment.

 

“Hey, there you are, Dean,” Mark says, grinning, his teeth very white against his olive skin. At least he’s wearing normal clothes, which helps Dean feel less out of place. “I’m glad you could make it. I want to introduce you to someone. She’s young, but she’s a firebrand, and everybody thinks she’s going to be the queen someday.”

 

Mark is one of his fellow firefighters, and Dean can’t quite believe his good luck—not only that he’d gotten a spot in the firehouse, but also that there’s another geek his age there.

 

“I have no idea what I’m doing here, dude,” Dean admits in an undertone.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Mark insists, throwing an arm across Dean’s shoulders. “It’s a lot of fun. Come on.”

 

Mark leads him through the crowd, using his stocky form to make a way for them. Dean sees a woman with dark red hair, and even from the back, she looks familiar.

 

“Hey, Charlie,” Mark calls.

 

Dean feels the smile begin when Charlie turns, her green dress swishing around her legs. “Dean!” she squeals. “It’s so good to see you!”

 

He has his arms full a second later, and he can’t help the grin that breaks out over his face. He’s always liked Charlie; she was his favorite out of Sam’s friends. Charlie is one of the first people who knew Dean was bi, and she willingly kept his secret.

 

“I had no idea you were going to be here,” Dean replies.

 

“Oh, yeah, I’m very involved,” Charlie replies enthusiastically. “But I’m a little surprised to see _you_ here!”

 

“I invited him,” Mark says. “I told you I was bringing my friend from the firehouse.”

 

“But I didn’t know you’d be bringing Dean!” Charlie protests. “Dean and I go way back.”

 

Dean grins. “Sure. I’ve known you since you were—what? Ten?”

 

“I think that’s when I beat up the bully who was picking on Sam,” Charlie agrees. “You gave me a fist bump.”

 

“You were so tiny and fierce!” Dean protests. “So, yes, I did.”

 

“Are you joining our band?” Charlie asks. “Please say yes. I could use a fierce warrior at my side.”

 

Mark voices a protest, although his hazel eyes are dancing. “What am I? Chopped liver?”

 

“No offense,” Charlie says. “It’s just that I’ve seen Dean wrestle. He’s a BAMF.”

 

Mark sighs. “Why am I even arguing? Everybody knows that Dean’s a rock star.”

 

“Excuse me, mister ‘I’m on the front page of the paper after giving CPR to a puppy,’” Dean says. “People are _still_ asking you for autographs.”

 

Mark punches him in the arm, although not hard. “Shut up. I know you’ve rescued small animals before.”

 

“Sure, but I had the good sense not to get photographed doing so,” Dean replies. “Sam would never let me hear the end of it.”

 

“How is Sam?” Charlie asks, sounding a little wistful. “I never hear from him, and all I get are Friendster statuses of him having the time of his life at Stanford.”

 

Dean winces. “I don’t know much more than you do, honestly. He still calls Mom about once a month, but I barely hear from him.”

 

Charlie tucks her arm through his. “Well, I hereby nominate you as _my_ big brother, and I will initiate you into the fold. Mark, you may join us if you wish.”

 

“See?” Mark comments in an undertone. “ _Queen of everything_.”

 

“And don’t you forget it,” Charlie says. “Dean, you’re going to love this.”

 

Funny thing is, she’s right.

 

**Now**

 

Dean is more and more sure that he has a stalker, although the guy isn’t being a creeper. Dean just keeps catching glimpses of him, mostly at the diner, but also on campus when he goes to pick up his books for the upcoming semester.

 

When he spots the guy at the library behind the circulation desk the first week of classes, Dean figures that explains it. The guy probably lives near campus, like Dean, and the diner is a local hangout. No big deal.

 

But the way the guy looks at him when he doesn’t think Dean is paying attention—there’s longing, and Dean doesn’t think he’s ever had anybody look at him like that before.

 

“What are you going to do?” Charlie asks one day. They’re at Dean’s place, making battle plans for Moondoor. Charlie is wearing jeans and an oversized t-shirt, her hair tucked behind her ears.

 

Dean sighs. “I don’t know, Charlie.” He scratches his beard; he’s not quite past the itchy phase yet, but Charlie assures him that he looks great. “Normally, I’d hit on him, ask him out, and see what the hell he’s thinking.”

 

“But?” she prompts.

 

“But he looks at me like I’m—I don’t know,” Dean says, embarrassed to tell her what he’s thinking.

 

“Like you’re the best thing since sliced bread?” Charlie suggests.

 

Dean shakes his head. “It’s more than that. I’m used to people looking at me and—you know, not really seeing me.”

 

“And you think this guy sees you?” Charlie asks.

 

“I just think he looks at me differently,” Dean replies.

 

Charlie shrugs. “Then I think you know what you need to do.”

 

“What’s that?” Dean asks.

 

“ _Talk_ to him,” Charlie urges. “See what he has to say. Maybe you remind him of someone.”

 

“Maybe,” Dean replies, and doesn’t see the need to explain the sense of déjà vu he gets around the guy. “Next time I see him, I’ll talk to him.”

 

“Now there’s the Dean I know and love,” Charlie replies. “Have you talked to Sam or Mary recently?”

 

Dean shrugs. “Sam called when I was having dinner with Mom the other day. He’s still dating that girl, and is talking about maybe bringing her back for a visit.”

 

“Did you tell your mom that you’d gone back to college?”

 

“Why?” Dean asks. “So she can be smug and Sam can give me a hard time about wanting to be a nurse? And you _know_ he will.”

 

Charlie sniffs. “Nurses get shit done. My mom’s nurses were the bomb.”

 

“Well, Sam’s going to be some big shot lawyer, which is clearly better than being a nurse,” Dean says sourly. “And of course my mom is all over that.”

 

Charlie surprises him with a hug. “Hey, don’t doubt yourself. Okay? You are a real-life hero. And also my best general.”

 

Dean returns her hug, and lets out a breath. “Thanks.”

 

“Do you need me to be your wingman with cute stalker dude?” Charlie asks, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

 

Dean chuckles and lets her go. “No, I’m good. I’ll approach him the next time I see him.”

 

“Good,” Charlie replies. “I’m holding you to that. Now, let’s talk battle plans.”

 

Dean is grateful for the subject change. “We’re going to need some additional practices.”

 

Charlie nods. “I’ll let you coordinate that with my full backing.”

 

Dean grins. “Awesome.”

 

~~~~~

 

Cas feels his stomach flip over when Dean enters the library. He’s grown a beard over the last few weeks, which sets him apart from the man Cas had known in that other timeline.

 

Sets him apart, and makes him that much more attractive.

 

The longing for Dean’s company is acute, even if Cas knows he’s not the same person. Dean disappears into the stacks, and Cas tries not to stare after him.

 

In fact, Cas tries really hard to forget that Dean is in the library. He tries not to be weird.

 

Cas hears someone clearing their throat, and he turns, forcing a pleasant expression onto his face.

 

And then he has to swallow around the lump in his throat, because Dean is standing there, smiling at him. It’s a shy, hesitant smile. “Hey, so I’ve been seeing you around.”

 

Cas opens his mouth. “Uh.”

 

Dean’s smile broadens, grows a little more confident. “So, you are interested.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Cas blurts out. “I’ve been trying not to be weird.”

 

Dean grins. “Gotta say you kinda missed the mark, dude.”

 

Cas feels his face heat. “Sorry.”

 

“I was thinking we could maybe get a drink sometime,” Dean replies. “If you’re interested.”

 

Cas glances away, hope and trepidation warring in his mind.

 

“Hey, it’s cool if you don’t,” Dean says earnestly. “I just thought if you were into it—”

 

“I would like that very much,” Cas blurts out.

 

 _This is foolish_ , Cas thinks. _This is incredibly stupid, and I don’t care._

 

And he doesn’t care, because Dean’s grin is blinding against the reddish blond tone of his beard. “Cool. Are you free tonight?”

 

“I get off at 7,” Cas replies immediately.

 

“I’ll meet you here,” Dean says. “My name is Dean, by the way.”

 

Cas barely manages not to blurt out that he knows. “Castiel. Cas.”

 

Dean’s grin turns slow and lazy. “Cas. See you tonight.”

 

Maybe, just maybe, Castiel has a chance to have this.

 

**Then**

 

Castiel is on his knees, desperate. Dean appears to be lost to them, Michael inhabiting his body with no apparent interest in vacating his perfect vessel, and every intention of bringing the apocalypse to this world.

 

There are ways to kill an archangel, and a few rituals that will cast one out, but there are key elements they don’t have and haven’t been able to procure.

 

Perhaps, in time, they will be able to get rid of Michael, but there is no guarantee that Dean will survive it.

 

And Castiel misses his friend.

 

He doesn’t expect an answer to his prayer. His father has left, and his inattention will destroy this world, too.

 

But then he hears Chuck say, “Oh, Castiel. I have to say, of all my angels, you understand my love of humanity the best.”

 

Castiel looks up, seeing his father standing there. He appears to be human, wearing similar clothing to what the Winchesters wear, and Castiel suddenly understands. His father likes humanity, cares for humans, and prefers to spend time with them.

 

“I didn’t expect you to come,” Castiel says.

 

Chuck shrugs. “I owe you and the Winchesters a few favors. My sister understands that I needed to show up. So, this is a pretty big mess.”

 

Castiel swallows. “You can fix this.”

 

“I can’t, actually,” Chuck replies. “Even I have to work within certain parameters, and others’ free will is one of them. Dean said yes to Michael, however unadvisedly. I can’t snap my fingers and undo that choice.”

 

Castiel stares at the floor, bitterly disappointed.

 

“I can do something else, though,” Chuck offers, his tone thoughtful. “It will require a sacrifice on your part.”

 

“Anything,” Castiel replies. “I will gladly give my life.”

 

“It’s not your life I want,” Chuck replies. “I can tell you that it will be a very different Dean that I save, and you won’t be an angel anymore. But he will be safe, and free from any angelic interference. After that, you can do what you want.”

 

Castiel frowns. “I don’t understand.”

 

“I know,” Chuck replies. “It’s a little complicated, and Michael’s on his way. Do you want me to fix this?”

 

Castiel doesn’t hesitate. Not being an angel is a small price to pay. “Yes. Please. Fix this.”

 

“You’ll remember,” Chuck says quietly. “And I’m sorry for that, because it will be harder on you, but there’s really no other way. I’ll take care of you, though.”

 

And when Castiel opens his eyes again, he’s in a whole new world.

 

**Now**

 

Dean checks his reflection in the mirror, pleased with himself. He’d gone home to change and get cleaned up, and he has to admit that Charlie had been right about the beard. He likes the way he looks with it, the way it frames his face.

 

He hopes Cas doesn’t mind beard burn too much.

 

Not that he assumes it’s going to be an issue tonight. It’s just a drink, although Cas’ blush and obvious interest gives him hope.

 

Dean rolls his sleeves up, straightens his collar, and says to his reflection, “You got this.”

 

His phone rings as he leaves, and Dean answers, “This is Dean.”

 

“It’s your mom,” Mary replies. “Would you be able to stop by tonight?”

 

Dean swallows a sigh. “I’ve got a date, Mom.”

 

“With Charlie?” Mary asks.

 

“No, Mom, we’re just friends,” Dean corrects her. “It’s somebody new.”

 

“So, it’s a first date?” Mary asks. “What’s her name?”

 

Dean will eventually have to come out, and come clean, but he doesn’t want to do it over the phone, and he doesn’t want to do it today. “Cas.”

 

“That’s nice, sweetheart,” Mary replies. “Would you mind coming by tomorrow?”

 

“No, it’s fine,” Dean replies. “But I have to be at work at 7.”

 

“I didn’t realize you were working nights now,” Mary says. “When did that start?”

 

Dean sighs. “A couple of months ago. Look, I have to go, or I’m going to be late.”

 

“We can talk about this tomorrow,” Mary says.

 

Dean winces. “Fine. Sorry, I have to go.”

 

“Have fun, and be safe!” his mom says.

 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Mom. See you tomorrow.”

 

The conversation has cost him precious seconds, and Dean decides that he’s better off taking his truck. He parks as close to the library as he can, and strides up the steps to the front door of the library just as Cas exits.

 

“Hey,” Dean calls with a grin.

 

Up close, Cas is gorgeous with his messy brown hair and blue eyes. His eyes flick off to the right, and then he seems to force himself to meet Dean’s eyes. “Hi, Dean.”

 

Cas’ growly voice goes right to Dean’s dick, and Dean’s grin widens. “You hungry? I know a great bar with good food.”

 

Cas nods. “I could eat. Thank you.”

 

“Yeah, no problem, man,” Dean replies. “You mind if I drive?”

 

“No, of course not,” Cas replies easily.

 

He seems a little surprised when they approach Dean’s truck, a 10-year-old Ford that has a bit of hail damage but runs like a dream. He bought it used, and it was a steal due to the dents.

 

“Not what you were expecting?” Dean asks.

 

Cas hesitates. “I’m not sure what I was expecting.”

 

Dean opens the passenger door for him like the gentleman he’s not. “Hop in.”

 

“Thank you,” Cas replies, after another brief hesitation.

 

Dean isn’t quite sure what to do with that, but Cas doesn’t seem uncomfortable with him. He can’t even say that Cas is off, because he doesn’t really know the guy. “So, have you lived in Lawrence long?” Dean asks as he heads towards the bar.

 

“No,” Cas says after another pause. “A few months at most.”

 

“Did you come here for the job?” Dean asks.

 

Cas stares out the window, and then turns to look at Dean. “I came here because I lost—I lost the man I loved. I had to start fresh. I—he—you bear a resemblance to him.”

 

Dean blinks. “Okay. Is that a problem for you?”

 

“No,” Cas says after a moment. “But I wanted to tell you, because I know I can be…awkward.”

 

“Everybody can be awkward, Cas,” Dean says. He feels a little awkward himself, feeling as though he pushed Cas into a premature confession. They barely know each other.

 

And yet, he feels familiar to Dean.

 

“I just wanted you to know,” Cas says quietly.

 

“Hey, man,” Dean says quietly. “It’s cool. We can just have a drink, get something to eat. It doesn’t have to be a date.”

 

Cas shakes his head, turning to look at Dean, his expression fierce. “No, I want to go on a date with you.”

 

Dean nods. “Okay, dude. We have a date.”

 

He definitely doesn’t think he’s going to get lucky after that, but Cas seems to shake off his mood as they pull up in front of the restaurant. He gets out of the truck before Dean can open his door and walks with Dean into the pub.

 

In khakis and a blue polo, Dean can see the breadth of his shoulders, and while he’s lean and maybe less built than Dean, they’re about the same height.

 

Dean likes that, and they get a table in the bar. When the waiter comes over, Dean orders a beer, and Cas echoes his order. “Are you guys going to want food, too?”

 

“Yeah, that would be great,” Dean replies. “Give us a few minutes.”

 

“Sure.”

 

The waiter leaves, and Dean looks over the menu. “You got a favorite food, Cas?”

 

“I like burgers,” Cas replies.

 

Dean grins. “Yeah? Same here. What else?”

 

“French fries,” Cas says. “And pizza. I—I don’t have very refined tastes.”

 

“Neither do I, man,” Dean replies. “But do you like trying new things?”

 

“I believe I can safely say that I’m open to just about anything,” Cas replies with a wry twist of his lips. “I would try anything once.”

 

Dean smiles. “That’s good. You like working at the library?”

 

“It’s boring,” Cas says. “But I am grateful for the quiet. What is it that you do?”

 

Dean wants to make a joke about how Cas should know since he was stalking him, but he refrains. If he lost Charlie and ran across someone who looked like her, he’d probably shadow them, too. “Well, I was a firefighter and EMT, but when I decided to go back to school, I had to make a change. Right now, I work for a hospital as an ambulance driver.”

 

“That seems like an honorable career,” Cas replies. “Do you enjoy it?”

 

“I liked firefighting more,” Dean admits. “But I want to be a trauma nurse, and the only way I could finish school was to switch careers. It’s going to take me some time to get through my degree, but I think it’s the right call.”

 

“If you’re happy with your decision, that’s all that matters,” Cas replies.

 

“Where were you before?” Dean asks.

 

“Missouri,”Cas replies. “I was a small town librarian. I was lucky to find the job at the university.”

 

Dean nods. “We all respond to trauma differently. Sometimes, you just need a clean break.”

 

The waiter returns. “Are you guys ready to order?”

 

Dean glances at Cas, who closes the menu. “I’ll do a burger.”

 

“Anything on that?” he asks.

 

“Bacon, cheese, and everything else,” Cas replies.

 

“What kind of cheese?”

 

Cas looks a little panicked, like he’s not sure how to answer that question. Dean thinks maybe their conversation has spooked him.

 

“Cheddar,” Dean says. “And I’ll have the same.”

 

Cas shoots him a look so grateful that Dean would have expected it out of someone whose life he just saved, but he pushes that aside. “Do you have family in the area?”

 

“I…do not have family,” Cas replies after a pause.

 

Dean grimaces. “Well, I’m just putting my foot into it tonight.”

 

“No,” Cas is quick to say. “I’m sorry, but I’m out of practice, and you are—you are quite distracting.”

 

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Distracting in a good way, I hope.”

 

“You are very beautiful.”

 

The way Cas says it, it’s not like he’s angling for anything. It’s like he’s just stating a fact, and Dean feels himself blush. “Thanks. You’re pretty cute yourself.”

 

Cas’ smile is genuine. “Thank you.” He pauses. “What about your family?”

 

Dean shrugs. “My mom is here in town, and she’s great but a little overbearing. My younger brother is at Stanford, and I rarely see him. My dad died when I was four. I think there are some other relatives out there, but Mom doesn’t like them much, so they don’t come around.”

 

“You aren’t close to your mother or your brother?” Cas asks.

 

That’s a little deep for a first date, but Cas had been vulnerable with him already. “When Sam left for college, he kind of dropped off the map. He’s got a new life, and he isn’t interested in his old one. My mom—she’s great, but there’s a lot about me that she doesn’t know, like the fact that I’m working for the hospital, or that I’m interested in guys.”

 

“There are truths it’s easier not to tell,” Cas says after a moment. “Things we don’t tell those we care for most.”

 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Dean says. “I have a strong group of friends. Charlie’s my best friend.”

 

“Charlie?”Cas prompts.

 

“She was Sam’s friend first, but we ran into each other at an event,” Dean says. “I LARP.”

 

Cas blinks. “Is this about your sword fighting?”

 

“I probably shouldn’t be happy that you know that, but I’m going with it,” Dean says. “Did you come to an event?”

 

“I might have followed you,” Cas admits reluctantly. “You were very—attractive.”

 

Dean chuckles. “And that didn’t turn you off?”

 

“Quite the opposite,” Cas admits. “Tell me what you like about it.”

 

Dean hesitates, but Cas seems sincere. “It’s a chance to be someone else for a little while, to beat the hell out of someone with their willing participation. It’s fun.”

 

“You looked like you were having fun,” Cas says wistfully. “I’m sorry I followed you.”

 

“Water under the bridge,” Dean assures him. “Tell me more about your life.”

 

“There’s very little to tell,” Cas replies. “I haven’t made many friends here.”

 

Dean smiles. “Well, maybe I can help you out, if you want.”

 

“I would,” Cas replies with a slight smile. “I’m kind of terrible with that.”

 

“Well, you and I will do just fine, then,” Dean replies.

 

They get through dinner without stepping on any other conversational landmines, mostly because Dean talks about LARP-ing and Charlie and his studies, and Cas listens. Dean worries that he’s monopolizing the conversation, but when Dean says, “I’m sorry. I’m talking too much,” Cas says, “No. I enjoy hearing about this.”

 

As first dates go, it’s not terrible, and when Dean drops Cas off in front of his apartment building, Cas says, “I’m sorry I wasn’t more of a conversationalist tonight.”

 

“No, man, you were fine. I’m sorry I talked nonstop.”

 

“I enjoyed it,” Cas replies. “I’d like to see you again, if you want.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Dean says immediately. “I have to go over to my mom’s place for dinner tomorrow, and I work, but I’d like to see you again soon. Let me get your phone number, and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

 

Cas nods, and his eyes dart to Dean’s mouth, and Dean takes that as a signal. The kiss is short and sweet, no tongue, just meant to be comfort.

 

Cas flushes a bright red, and he touches his lips. “Oh. Ah. Thank you.”

 

It’s fucking adorable, and Dean programs his name and number into Cas’ phone, then sends himself a text. “Okay, we’re good.”

 

Call him crazy, but Dean’s pretty sure he likes the guy.

 

~~~~~

 

Dean doesn’t call the next day, and Cas begins to fear that the date was even more of a disaster than he thought. He’s never really been on a date, so he has no frame of reference, but he’s pretty sure he shouldn’t have spilled the entire life story that Chuck dropped into Cas’ head. He shouldn’t have told Dean about the deaths, the lack of family; he should have come up with something else to say.

 

But when Dean talks about his interests, his face lights up, and he gestures, and his grin is so blinding that Cas could simply bask in his presence forever.

 

And now Dean isn’t calling. Of course, Cas could call him, but he’s intruded on Dean’s life enough already.

 

Cas works his shift and tries not to think about Dean or anything related to Dean—impossible—as he heads to the bank.

 

He bumps into a woman as he leaves, mumbling an apology under his breath, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm. “Oh, child. You _are_ a mess.”

 

Cas blinks and focuses. “I’m sorry?”

 

“Come on, honey, I think you could use a friendly ear.” The woman—Cas suddenly recognizes her as Missouri Mosely—tucks her hand through his arm. She’s dark skinned and on the stocky side, and she’s clearly not going to take no for an answer. “And I know you know who I am.”

 

“You’re Missouri Mosely,” Cas replies. “And I know what you can do.”

 

“Then you’re going to walk me home, and we’re going to drink tea, and you can speak freely,” Missouri replies. “And for the record, that boy is gone on you. You have an opportunity here, and it’s up to you to take it.”

 

Cas doesn’t know how to pull free without causing a scene, but Missouri pats his arm. “Now, now, son. You’ve been stuck inside your own head for too long. Besides, when Dean does call you, you can tell him you met a real, live psychic.”

 

Cas blinks. “Why would I do that?”

 

“Because it’s _interesting_ ,” Missouri replies, leading Cas down a residential street. “You were worried that you didn’t say anything to Dean, and this way, you’ll have something to say. Speaking of, you have to get out and _live_ , Castiel.”

 

Cas knows who she is because he knows everything about Dean, everything about his past, and therefore he knows Missouri.

 

Of course, he hadn’t been expecting her to accost him at the bank, but Lawrence isn’t that big.

 

“I think I’ve forgotten that,” Cas admits. “I have been surrounded by death for too long.”

 

“You need to get out!” Missouri scolds him. “And to do more than just eat. But I imagine Dean will take care of that. Still, you could make an effort.”

 

“I don’t know where to start,” Cas admits.

 

“Well, you can come over and help me rake leaves,” Missouri says. “That will help.”

 

“Help who?” Cas asks.

 

Missouri laughs. “There you go. I knew there was a sense of humor in there somewhere. But you’re still going to sit down with me and talk.”

 

“And why am I going to do that?” Cas asks, a little of his old humor reasserting itself.

 

“Because everybody needs at least one person they can be honest with, Mr. Angel-Man,” Missouri replies. “And you have more to get off your chest than most.”

 

“I suppose I do,” Cas admits, and he feels more than a little bit of relief that there’s someone who knows, who knows without him even saying anything.

 

Someone who knows how much he misses that old life, misses Sam and Dean and Jack and the others. Someone who might understand how much he gave up to have another chance to be with Dean.

 

Missouri pats his hand. “Good. You can tell me all about it. To be honest, I had my doubts about God, but it seems he came through in the end.”

 

“I suppose he did,” Cas replies. “I don’t think I’ve had tea before.”

 

“You’re in for a treat,” Missouri replies. “It’s my family recipe. And don’t worry, I’ll know if you hate it, so you don’t need to say it.”

 

Cas frowns. “You can tell I’m going to hate it already?”

 

“Lord, no!” Missouri replies. “But if you do, I don’t need to hear you say it.”

 

Cas suddenly realizes that she’s joking, and he cracks a smile.

 

“There you go,” Missouri says. “We’ll get you into fighting trim in no time.”

 

“There’s a battle coming?” Cas asks.

 

“Only a battle for Dean Winchester’s heart, but you have something of a head start there, with that profound bond you have,” Missouri assures him. “Just you relax, Cas. Dean has his own battles to fight, even here.”

 

Cas decides to take her at her word. “Thank you.”

 

Missouri smiles. “Well, you’re the most interesting person I’ve met in years.”

 

Cas doesn’t know whether he should take that as a compliment or not, but he accepts it. “Do you have any advice?”

 

“Be yourself, baby,” Missouri says. “Dean likes awkward.”

 

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

 

“Oh, it’s not, but don’t worry about it. There are some things that are just a statement of the facts.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Hey, Mom, I’m here!” Dean calls as he enters. “I brought food.”

 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Mary replies.

 

“What were you planning?” Dean replies.

 

“Sandwiches,” Mary admits. “So, food is good.”

 

Dean shrugs. “It’s just a pasta salad, but I had time to throw it together this afternoon. Feel free to keep the leftovers if you’re going to be around.”

 

Mary inclines her head. “I don’t have any plans to go anywhere.”

 

Dean decides not to ask about her weekend plans. Given how hunting works, she might change her mind on Friday afternoon if news of something supernatural comes in. “Well, good.”

 

“Are you working this weekend?” Mary asks. “We could grill.”

 

“Or I could grill,” Dean replies, amused. “What’s with the sudden need for family dinners?”

 

“Do I need an excuse to spend time with my son?” Mary asks.

 

“Which means, yes, you do have an ulterior motive,” Dean replies with a grin. “Come on, Mom, I know you. We have dinners once a month like clockwork unless you want something.”

 

“Let’s sit down,” Mary suggests.

 

Now Dean is starting to get nervous. His mom has never been shy about letting him have it with both barrels, but if she’s hesitating—

 

“You’re not sick, are you?” Dean asks.

 

Mary rolls her eyes. “No, Dean. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m healthy as a horse.”

 

Mary would probably wrestle Death and make him cry mercy, so Dean believes it. “Good,” he says. “I deal with enough sick people.”

 

“I thought you were busy running into burning buildings,” Mary says archly.

 

Dean rolls his eyes in turn. “You know that wasn’t even half of what I did. My primary duties were as a paramedic. Or you would know if you actually listened to me for a change.”

 

“I listen to you!” Mary protests. “I just don’t like my kid running into danger, instead of away from it.”

 

Dean tries to bite his tongue but can’t quite manage to keep his silence. “Like you’ve ever run from danger in your life.”

 

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Mary agrees. “I’m just glad you didn’t embrace hunting.”

 

Mary starts to dish up as Dean grabs silverware. “You never would have forgiven me.”

 

“You have that right,” Mary says. “I don’t know how Ellen does it.”

 

“Ellen knows that Jo follows her dad everywhere and always has, and she doesn’t want to lose the relationship,” Dean replies.

 

“You’re right,” Mary says after a pause.

 

Dean wonders if that means Mary knows how close she’s been to stepping over Dean’s line on occasion. “How is everything else?” Dean asks.

 

“Everything is fine,” Mary replies a bit impatiently. “Dean, you know I have my sources.”

 

Dean also knows that he’s not going to like this. “Yeah, I do.” He shovels in his first bite because he’s pretty sure he’s not going to get through the entire meal before he’s pissed off enough to leave.

 

He knows that tone.

 

“I wish you wouldn’t scarf your food.”

 

“I wish I didn’t get freaked out about the words ‘you know I have my sources,’” Dean replies. “Just say it, Mom.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were working for the hospital now?” Mary asks reproachfully.

 

Dean sighs. “Because you hated me working for the fire department, and I didn’t want to hear I told you so, or something similar.”

 

“So, why did you change? You said you loved fire and rescue,” Mary replies.

 

“I did,” Dean protests. “I do. It’s just—I couldn’t go back to school and do fire and rescue, so I took a job that would let me do both.”

 

Mary’s face lights up, just the way Dean knew she would. “What are you going back to school for?”

 

“Nursing,” Dean says, “assuming they admit me to the program. I’ve been watching trauma nurses and seeing how much they do, and what kind of difference they can make. I want to do that.”

 

“That’s great, Dean,” Mary says. “You’re going to be an amazing nurse. You have such a good heart.”

 

For a moment, Dean lets himself bask in her approval. “Thanks.”

 

“So, tell me about this date you had,” Mary says. “How did you meet her?”

 

Dean could pretend. He could even lie. But there’s something about accepting his mom’s approval when there’s this huge part of his life she doesn’t know about that he just can’t let go. He can’t accept her approval when he knows it’s going to be withdrawn.

 

“It’s a guy, Mom.”

 

Mary frowns. “Who’s a guy?”

 

“Cas is a guy,” Dean replies. “I’m dating a man.”

 

Mary blinks. “You’re gay?”

 

“I’m bi,” Dean says firmly. Because he is, and he likes both men and women, but right now, he likes Cas.

 

“So, you could find a nice girl to settle down with,” Mary says.

 

Dean takes a deep breath. “Yes, I could, but I could also find a nice boy to settle down with, Mom. That’s what being bi means.”

 

“But it wouldn’t have to be a man,” Mary argues.

 

“It would if I fell in love with a man,” Dean says. “And I’m not shutting off that avenue just because you’re uncomfortable with the idea of me being with a dude.”

 

“I don’t care if you’re gay,” Mary protests. “But if you could find a woman—”

 

“I’m not going to have the life you wanted for me!” Dean exclaims. “I’m not Sam! I’m not the college-bound future lawyer or doctor. I’m not straight, and I’m not going to pretend to be straight just so you can feel better.”

 

“Why wouldn’t you want to fit in?” Mary asks.

 

“Because I like guys!” Dean exclaims. “I like Cas. He’s awkward but really sweet, and I’m not going to not see him because you’re uncomfortable.”

 

“Dean—”

 

“I need you to see me!” Dean exclaims. “For once in your life, see what you have instead of what you think you should have. When you can do that, maybe give me a call and let me know.”

 

He leaves immediately after that, and he calls Cas. He’s not sure if he expects him to answer, but Cas growls, “This is Castiel.”

 

“I have to head to work, but I really want to see you again,” Dean says. “I get off at 7. Is breakfast a possibility?”

 

Cas pauses. “I would like to see you again as well, and I’m an early riser. Breakfast is a guarantee. Do you want to meet at the diner?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” Dean says. “Sorry for the late notice.”

 

“My schedule isn’t full, and I’ve been looking forward to your call,” Cas says.

 

Dean suddenly realizes what the day of the week it is. “Do you mind if Charlie is there? I can let her know we’re off.”

 

“No,” Cas says. “I’d like to meet her.”

 

“Are you sure?” Dean asks. “I don’t mind if it’s just us.”

 

“Neither do I,” Cas replies warmly. “But I don’t mind.”’

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Is everything okay?” Cas asks.

 

“My mom thinks I should find a girl,” Dean replies.

 

“Do you want to?”

 

“Not really,” Dean admits. “I kind of like you in all your dudely glory.”

 

Cas pauses. “I’m not sure what that means, but thank you.”

 

“It means I really want to have breakfast with you,” Dean replies.

 

“I’ll see you for breakfast, Dean,” Cas replies. “I look forward to it.”

 

Dean smiles helplessly. “Thanks, man.”

 

“Why are you thanking me?” Cas asks. “I want to see you.”

 

Dean laughs. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you can make it.”

 

There’s an awkward pause, and Cas says, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“See you then,” Dean replies.

 

Once he’s off the phone, he texts Charlie. _Cas is going to join us._

 

_WUT?_

 

_Problem?_

_no, just marveling at the sight of my loyal general completely smitten_

_So you don’t mind?_

_dude, no i want to meet cute stalker_

_He’s kind of awkward._

_pls we’_ _re nerds he ’s a future minion_

_Charlie …_

_;-)_

 

That’s probably not a good sign. Normally, he might try to keep any dating exploits separate from his nerd life, but maybe it’s fine. Charlie is one of those people who puts everybody at ease, and Dean knows she’ll be cool with Cas.

 

What Cas does with Charlie is another matter entirely.

 

Dean beats Sarah to work, and he waits for her in the bus. He gets a text from Roger as he’s waiting for her.

 

_When u off? Drinks?_

_Wednesday, but not sure if I’m free,_ Dean replies.  _Might have a date._

 

_Bring her!_

_Not a her._

_Bring him!_

 

Dean laughs. Roger is something else, and Dean appreciates his friendship. Roger is in the same boat as Dean, coming back to college as an adult and working his way through school, hoping to get into the nursing program and drilling for the Guard.

 

He’s also completely chill with Dean being bi, which is a plus.

 

_We ’ll see. I’ll let you know._

 

Sarah climbs into the bus. “Texting your boyfriend?”

 

“No, but we’re meeting for breakfast tomorrow morning,” Dean replies. “You should join us.”

 

“I should join you on your…date,” Sarah says, drawing out the words.

 

Dean starts up the engine. “Well, Charlie is going to be there, so it would really be more like a double date. If you came, Charlie wouldn’t feel like a third wheel, and you could meet both of them.”

 

Sarah leans back against the passenger door and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Winchester.”

 

“What?” Dean says defensively.

 

“You’ve got the bug already.”

 

“What bug?” Dean asks as the radio crackles.

 

“The ‘I’m in a happy relationship and I want everybody else to be, too,’ bug,” Sarah replies.

 

Dean picks up the radio. “Go for number ten.”

 

“Life threatening medical emergency at 934 Elm Street,” the dispatcher replies. “Fire and rescue is on their way, but transport is necessary.”

 

Dean hits the sirens and peels out as Sarah replies, “Number ten, on our way.”

 

“So, is this the same cute dude you insisted you weren’t going to pursue?” Sarah asks.

 

“I kept seeing him,” Dean defends, navigating the streets and traffic with ease. “Like I said, he was cute.”

 

“And you’re focused on getting into nursing school,” she points out.

 

“Well, yeah, but he works in the university library, so he’s probably cool with it. I don’t know, we’ve been on one date,” Dean replies.

 

“But he’s cute,” Sarah says.

 

Dean smiles. “Awkward as hell, but yeah, he’s cute.”

 

“You love awkward,” Sarah replies.

 

Dean hitches a shoulder. “Yeah, maybe. At least I like his kind of awkward.”

 

Sarah gives him a look. “You know what? I am going to come to breakfast with you.”

 

Dean is a little surprised. “What?”

 

“You are so completely hung up on this dude, and I want to meet him,” Sarah insists. “And I’ll meet Charlie, but if we hate each other, you can’t hold it against me.”

 

“Promise,” Dean says as they pull up in front of the address. “Ready to go to work?”

 

Sarah just grins at him, her brown eyes sparkling. “Always, Winchester.”

 

**Then**

 

When his cell phone rings, just a couple of hours after he’s finished his shift at the movie theater, he’s not happy. His mom is on a girls’ weekend, and Sam is spending time with friends. Dean had been looking forward to a few days working and reading books Sam would mock him for.

 

Dean leaves his phone on just in case, and so he answers, “Dean Winchester.”

 

“Dean, this is Ellen Harvelle,” the voice on the other end says. “I need you to come pick your mom up.”

 

“I don’t know you, and I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean replies automatically.

 

There’s a sigh. “I’m just outside Auburn, Nebraska, and I know your mom well. She was here on a hunt, and she got injured. I don’t feel comfortable letting her drive home.”

 

Dean has gone to competitions all around Kansas and Nebraska, so he knows vaguely where that is. “I still don’t know who you are.”

 

There’s a moment of silence, and then his mom says, “Dean. I need you to come get me.”

 

“Is there a gun to your head right now?” Dean asks.

 

“I’m hurt, and Ellen won’t give me the keys to the car,” his mom says, sounding disgruntled. “But I’m _fine_.”

 

Dean has no idea what to do with that, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. He’s not really sure why she’s on a hunting trip when she said she was with friends—but maybe Ellen likes to hunt, and it is deer season.

 

Dean sighs. “Yeah, give me the directions, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

His mom helped him buy a car for his sixteenth birthday, and while the Toyota isn’t much to look at, it’s reliable and gets good gas mileage. Eventually, Dean will save up enough to buy a vehicle he really likes, but that’s going to take time.

 

And a better paying job than what he currently has.

 

The trip to Auburn takes a little over two hours, and the Road House is just outside of town, off on its own, looking like a roadside biker bar. Dean parks and heads inside cautiously, not quite sure what to expect.

 

The interior matches the exterior with its old school bar and scarred wooden tables. There’s a blonde woman about his mom’s age wiping down the bar, looking pissed off. His mom is sitting at a table with a tall, broad shouldered guy who seems amused for some reason, and sitting next to his mom is a girl younger than Sammy, staring at his mom with hero worship in her eyes.

 

“Hey, Mom,” Dean says. “You okay?”

 

“I just hurt my leg a little,” Mary says. “Ellen didn’t think I should drive back myself.”

 

“You need to get that leg seen to,” Ellen says. “You might have torn something, and you probably need stitches.”

 

“What the hell happened?” Dean asks. “I thought you were having a girls’ weekend. That’s what you told me.”

 

“Ellen was here,” Mary says.

 

Dean glares at her. “I got dragged out of bed for a four hour round trip, so I think you owe me the truth.”

 

“Dean, there are things you just don’t need to know,” Mary begins.

 

Dean sits down at the table, noticing that his mom had her leg propped up on a chair with a bloodstained bandage around her calf. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”

 

“The boy deserves to know,” the man says. “I’m Bill Harvelle, by the way.”

 

“Dean Winchester, if that wasn’t obvious,” Dean replies. He winks at the girl. “And you are?”

 

“Jo,” she replies, blushing slightly.

 

Dean turns his attention to his mom. “So?”

 

His mom looks reluctantly amused at his antics, which is what Dean had been going for. “I was hunting a vengeful spirit.”

 

Dean waits for the punch line. “Is that a joke?”

 

“The supernatural is real,” Bill says. “Ghosts, vampires, demons, werewolves, all of that.”

 

Dean looks at his mom. “Mom?”

 

“Sweetheart,” she begins. “You remember when my cousins came around a few years ago?”

 

Dean frowns. “Sure. You had them out of the house so fast, the door didn’t even hit them in the ass.”

 

“Language,” Mary says reflexively. “And they were hunters. My whole family was made up of hunters. We find things that kill people, and we kill them first. I grew up in the life, and I got out when I married your dad.”

 

Ellen coughs.

 

“I kept my family safe,” Mary says testily. “I wasn’t going to let it touch my boys.”

 

This is all sounding pretty far-fetched to Dean, although looking back, he can remember other injuries—a twisted ankle, a bruised cheekbone, a wrist wrapped up in an ace bandage, another time when she moved stiffly and claimed to have wrenched her back with a wry smile and a comment about getting old.

 

Every time, Mary had some reason for it that seemed innocuous—slipped going down the stairs, misjudged the timing and banged her face on a doorknob, fell on the ice outside. The injuries were isolated, spread far enough apart in time that they never seemed related.

 

Dean is left with the realization that either his mom and the Harvelles are telling the truth, or they’re living some sort of shared delusion. “So, let’s say I buy this,” Dean says. “How did you hurt your leg?”

 

“I fell down the stairs of an abandoned building, and twisted my knee some and cut up my leg,” Mary says dismissively. “It’s not a big deal.”

 

“I got hauled out of bed for a four hour round trip!” Dean says. “It’s a big deal!”

 

“Not to me,” Mary replies firmly. “Like I said before, don’t worry about it.”

 

Dean shakes his head. “You lied about where you were going, you lied about all those other injuries in the past, how am I supposed to believe you now?”

 

Mary gives him a long look, and then she shrugs. “I suppose you don’t need to believe me. You just need to drive me home.”

 

Dean wonders if she’s a little relieved that he doesn’t quite believe her, because maybe he won’t poke his nose in.

 

Truthfully, Dean’s more than a little put out that his mom is putting herself at risk. He’s lost one parent; he doesn’t want to lose her, too.

 

“Fine,” Dean says, rolling his eyes. “Be that way.”

 

Bill chuckles, but Ellen shakes her head. “Stop by the ER, or at least an urgent care clinic once you’re back in Lawrence, Dean,” Ellen says. “Don’t let your mom tell you otherwise.”

 

Dean happens to agree. “Yes, ma’am. Come on, Mom.”

 

He offers her a hand up, which she takes, and then she leans on him. Dean knows that means she’s hurting worse than she wants to let on. “It was nice to meet all of you,” he says politely.

 

He thinks he hears Ellen say, “That woman raised her boy right,” as they leave.

 

“What’s the story with the Road House?” Dean asks as he helps his mom into the car.

 

At first, he doesn’t think she’s going to answer, because her lips thin out in a straight line, and then she says, “It’s a hunter hangout, both for the locals, and for those passing through. It’s a good place to pick up information.”

 

They’re a good 20 miles away, headed back to Lawrence, when Dean asks, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

 

“Hunting is a hard life,” Mary says wearily. “I didn’t want this for you, Dean.”

 

“Just because I know about it doesn’t mean I want to follow in your footsteps,” Dean replies. And just because he knows about it, doesn’t mean he completely believes her, but if she’s not telling the truth now, Dean isn’t sure he wants to know what the truth is. It could be so much worse. “I wish you would have told me.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Mary finally says. “Maybe I should have, but—it never seemed like the right time.”

 

Dean thinks about that, about when she might have told them, and he can see her point, at least a little. “Okay.”

 

“Okay?”

 

“I’m not Sam, Mom. I don’t have to know everything about everything,” Dean replies, sensing that this might be a line in the sand for her. He loves his mom, and while she might drive him crazy at times, he believes she wants the best for him. She doesn’t want them hunting, and Dean isn’t interested enough to go against her, not when he’s pretty sure she’ll _hate_ his chosen field.

 

“Good,” Mary says. “And Dean, thank you for coming tonight.”

 

“Of course,” Dean replies. “Always.”

 

**Now**

 

Cas enters the diner, hoping that Dean doesn’t mind that he’s dressed for work, but his shift starts at 9 today, and he hadn’t wanted to be late. He probably could have asked Missouri, or maybe one of his coworkers to drive him, but he hasn’t made many friends.

 

He hasn’t tried, really. He’s been a little shell-shocked, a little too focused on Dean, to make much of an effort. He doesn’t know _how_ to make an effort, not really.

 

Besides, Cas isn’t sure that anything can quite fill the hole that the loss of his friendship with Sam has left, or the loss of Jack, who won’t ever exist in this world.

 

Cas pauses just inside the door, seeing Dean in his paramedic uniform. He’s with a red-haired woman Cas recognizes as Charlie, and another dark-haired woman he’s never seen before.

 

At the sight of Dean’s company, Cas nearly turns around, but he reminds himself that he has faced archangels and Lucifer himself. He can handle a couple of humans, and they are important to Dean. He will do his best.

 

His courage is awarded moments later when Dean spots him, and a wide grin breaks out over his face. He slides out of the booth to meet Cas, and after a brief moment where Cas isn’t really sure what’s expected, Dean chuckles and pulls him in for a hug.

 

Cas has _missed this so much_.

 

Dean pulls back after a moment, and there’s a moment’s pause before he leans in for a quick kiss. “You okay?”

 

“I’m just glad to see you,” Cas confesses.

 

That’s apparently the right thing to say, because Dean grins brightly. “Come on over. You can meet Charlie and Sarah.”

 

Cas allows Dean to drag him over to their table and push him into the booth first, sliding in next to him so that Cas is trapped between Dean and the wall. He doesn’t really mind, although he’s not going to be able to make a quick getaway.

 

“So, this is Cas,” Dean says. “Cas, this is my friend, Charlie, and my paramedic partner, Sarah.”

 

“Hi,” Cas says.

 

Charlie grins at him. “Hi! I’ve been hearing so much about you. It’s nice to finally meet the cute stalker dude.”

 

Cas blinks. “Who?”

 

Dean snorts with laughter. “That would be you.”

 

“I didn’t mean to stalk you?” Cas offers.

 

“Stalking requires an intent to cause fear most of the time,” Sarah offers. “Obviously, Dean wasn’t scared, and Cas didn’t intend to cause fear, so ergo, not stalking.”

 

Cas smiles. “I really didn’t mean to. It’s just—he’s hard to resist.”

 

“Oh, my god,” Charlie says. “He’s adorkable!”

 

“Is that a good thing?” Cas asks cautiously as Dean blushes.

 

“Oh, it’s a very good thing if you’re Dean,” Sarah says dryly. “And considering the way he blushes when he talks about you, he _really_ likes you.”

 

“Traitor,” Dean says, but he’s grinning.

 

“She’s my new favorite,” Charlie announces. “But Cas is still my new minion.”

 

Cas frowns. “I didn’t agree to this.”

 

“Charlie thinks I should recruit you for our LARP-ing group,” Dean says. “Don’t feel obligated.”

 

“Well, I’m not sure what use I’ll be, and I don’t understand what that is, but I’d stay by your side, Dean,” Cas offers.

 

A moment later, he realizes that probably sounds really weird, since Dean doesn’t know that he’d been an angel in a former life.

 

But Charlie just grins and rubs her hands together. “Seriously, you guys are better than puppies—Golden Retriever puppies even.”

 

“Charlie!” Dean says.

 

Cas isn’t sure why that’s bad, and then Charlie says, “Come on, they’re adorable, you guys are adorable, it’s an apt comparison.”

 

Dean sighs. “Fine. I will bring Cas to a fighter practice, and if he hates it, you won’t bug me about it again.”

 

“Absolutely,” Charlie promises. “But he wants to stand by you, Dean.”

 

“And I am very grateful for that, but it’s not necessary if he hates it,” Dean says firmly. “He can just cheer me on from the sidelines.”

 

“I would like to fight by your side,” Cas protests.

 

“You’re not obligated to do so,” Dean replies.

 

Cas shrugs. “I think I am.”

 

Charlie and Sarah look at each other. “So, how inadequate do you feel in your relationship goals right now?” Sarah asks.

 

“ _So_ inadequate,” Charlie replies.

 

Dean has his face in his hands, and Cas is completely lost. “Dean?”

 

“You are awesome,” Dean says, looking him dead in the eye. “They are in awe of how awesome you are, which is why they’re being weird. It’s not you.” He squeezes Cas’ shoulder as he does so, and Cas can’t help but lean in a little bit, and Dean wraps an arm around his shoulders. “So, I think we should order breakfast.”

 

“Puppies _and_ kittens,” Sarah says, and Cas doesn’t understand what baby animals have to do with breakfast.

 

“How do you feel about pancakes, Cas?” Dean asks.

 

Cas doesn’t shrug, because he wants Dean to leave his arm where it is. “I like them.”

 

“A man after my own heart,” Dean says, patting him on the shoulder before he withdraws his arm. “Do you want to come to fighter practice? It’s Wednesday.”

 

Castiel is willing. “Yes, of course. Just tell me where and when.”

 

“Do you work that day?” Dean asks. “We usually have it about seven, but I can push it back if you’re working later.”

 

“I work 10 to 7 most week days,” Cas replies. “If you don’t mind me being late.”

 

“I’ll pick you up at the library,” Dean says. “We’ve been holding it on campus while the weather is nice.”

 

“Oh, this I have to see,” Sarah murmurs.

 

Dean gives her a triumphant look. “I’m going to rope you into this, too, you know. This is how it starts.”

 

“I just want to see how Cas does,” Sarah replies. “There’s no roping me in.”

 

Charlie smirks. “Yeah, that’s what Dean said.”

 

“I will look forward to it,” Cas says, and feels less alone than he has in a long time.

 

~~~~~

 

Dean has three days off in a row most weeks, unless he picks up an extra shift. Granted, his days off are always in the middle of the week, but weekends at the hospital tend to be a little busier, a little more exciting, so he doesn’t mind.

 

He has classes Tuesday morning, with time for a quick nap, and then another class that afternoon. He got lucky this semester, somehow able to get all Tuesday/Thursday classes, which gives him Wednesday and Friday to do homework, chores, and catch up on sleep in time for his Friday shift.

 

Dean likes his routine, but he’s looking forward to the break in it, since that break involves seeing Cas.

 

He’s nervous about it, though, afraid that Cas will hate it. Dean isn’t sure what he’ll do if Cas hates it or if he’s weirded out by Dean’s hobby.

 

Although he probably won’t be weirded out. He saw Dean fighting, and he still agreed to a date. Two of them, in fact.

 

Dean’s wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt, and he hopes Cas doesn’t mind. Cas meets him on the stairs to the library, in what seems to be his typical workday uniform of khakis and a polo shirt.

 

“Should I wear something else?” Cas asks.

 

“Do you have anything else?” Dean replies.

 

Cas shrugs. “At my apartment, I think.”

 

“We’ll swing by your place on our way,” Dean replies. “You’ll be more comfortable in gym wear.”

 

“I’ll be right back,” Cas says as soon as Dean pulls up in front of his apartment building.

 

He’s as good as his word, returning a few minutes later dressed much the same way as Dean, the tight t-shirt stretched across his chest showing off his lean form.

 

“You look good,” Dean says.

 

Cas blushes slightly. “Thank you. You do as well.”

 

“We’d better get going,” Dean says. “We’ll be late.”

 

“I believe we already are late,” Cas points out.

 

Dean smirks. “I’m the general. The general is _never_ late.”

 

The look Cas gives him is a little strange, a little wistful. “I think you are an excellent general.”

 

He sounds so certain of that, Dean isn’t quite sure where that’s coming from. “Well, wait until you’ve trained with me for a while. You might change your mind.”

 

“I saw you in battle,” Cas reminds him. “I have no doubts.”

 

“Thanks,” Dean replies. He’s not sure how Cas can be so sure after one battle, and the way he says it, he’s completely certain.

 

The green space where they practice is already populated by the dozen or so people who participate in Moondoor battles on a regular basis, warming up.

 

“Hey, Dean!” Mark calls. “I see you brought a friend.”

 

Dean greets him with a backslapping hug. “Glad you could make it, Mark. This is Cas.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Cas,” Mark says, extending a hand. “Are you new to LARP-ing?”

 

“Yes, very new,” Cas replies. “Since this is my first time.”

 

“Cas was brave enough to come along tonight,” Dean says. “Considering it’s our third date.”

 

Mark grins and claps Dean on the back. “Yeah? Good for you, man. We’ll go easy on him.”

 

“You don’t have to,” Cas says.

 

“I like it,” Mark says. “Someone with real fighting spirit.”

 

“Come on,” Dean says, slinging an arm over Cas’ shoulders. “We’ll get warmed up and then run some drills.”

 

Dean walks Cas through the warm-up, noting that Cas doesn’t seem to have any problems following orders. “Hang tight for a minute while I get everybody started,” Dean says.

 

“Of course, Dean,” Cas replies easily.

 

Dean makes sure everybody has their practice weapons and has paired off, the weaker fighters with the stronger for now while they run drills. He’s found the technique effective in training the newer people so he doesn’t have to be the only one working with them.

 

Charlie’s first general, an older woman by the name of Debbie, had worked hard to bring Dean up to speed when she saw he had some talent, but she’d moved to Portland almost a year before.

 

“Okay, Cas,” Dean says, holding out a practice sword hilt first.

 

Most of the time, he has to start with the proper grip, then move on to stance, then simple blocks and parries. As soon as Cas grips the hilt, though, it’s pretty clear that he’s held a sword before.

 

His grip is perfect, firm but not nervous, and he immediately drops into a fighting stance, his shoulders relaxed, his expression calm and resolute.

 

“You’ve done this before,” Dean says.

 

Cas hesitates. “I have held a sword before, but never in this context.”

 

“You did fencing?” Dean asks.

 

Cas shrugs. “It’s good exercise.”

 

The last thing Dean expected from a slightly nerdy librarian was a background in swordplay, but Cas apparently has layers. “Okay, we’ll start slow. You strike first.”

 

Cas hesitates, but then nods, as if to himself. “Very well.”

 

He telegraphs his move, and Dean easily blocks the overhand blow. He tries to strike Cas’ side, and Cas blocks him. Cas might not be the strongest fighter Dean has faced, but he has skills.

 

Dean forgets that this is Cas, his potential boyfriend, and he lets loose a little. Cas matches him blow for blow, his expression going from grimly satisfied to almost playful. Dean ducks under a blow, spins, and then finds the point of Cas’ practice sword under his chin.

 

“Do you yield?” Cas asks.

 

Dean smirks and presses the point of his sword against Cas’ stomach. “Do _you_?”

 

Cas grins and inclines his head. “Would you believe that I let you win?”

 

“I’ll believe that you’re a demon with a sword,” Dean replies.

 

Cas gives him a strange look. “A demon?”

 

They’re surrounded a few moments later by the rest of the band, clapping Dean on the back and shaking Cas’ hand. Cas looks a little nonplussed by the attention, but he takes their acclaim with a hesitant smile.

 

“All right, let’s break it up,” Dean says. “We still have more practice to go. Cas, you want to help me out?”

 

“Of course,” Cas replies. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

 

“Spar with Mark,” Dean says. “We usually split off into pairs of equal skill, and Mark’s the one who’s closest to me. You can probably give him some pointers.”

 

He spots Charlie and Sarah off to one side, watching the practice. “I’ll be right back,” he says. “Everybody, pair off!”

 

“Damn, Dean,” Sarah says as he approaches. “That was badass.”

 

“If you don’t marry him, I will,” Charlie says. “Even if he’s a guy. The universe seems to love you.”

 

“How is that?” Dean asks, thinking about how his mom hadn’t been in touch since their fight.

 

“You have a really cute guy interested in you who thinks you’re the best thing since sliced bread, who’s willing to LARP, and knows how to use a sword,” Charlie points out. “The universe _loves you_ , because this guy gets dropped into your lap, Dean, so don’t shoot yourself in the foot, and don’t overthink it.”

 

Dean frowns. “He is kind of perfect, isn’t he?”

 

“Yes, so don’t sabotage yourself,” Charlie orders. “I mean it.”

 

“Listen to her, Dean,” Sarah advises. “Now, go back out there and kick these people into shape.”

 

But when Dean goes back, he’s thinking about how perfect Cas is, how neatly he fits into Dean’s life. He’s a university librarian, he likes Dean, he can wield a sword—it’s almost too perfect.

 

He eventually pushes the idea out of his mind. Cas is the kind of awkward that’s impossible to fake, and Dean isn’t sure why he’d want to anyway. Dean is nobody special. There’s no reason someone would want to get close to him for nefarious purposes.

 

At the end of practice, Cas drifts closer. He’d done a pretty good job coaching the others, and Charlie tells him as much. “You are awesome!” she says. “Are you going to join our band?”

 

“I believe I’d like that,” Cas replies. “Thank you for the invitation.”

 

“Thank you for joining us,” Charlie replies. “We’ll talk about the rest of it later.”

 

“The rest of it?” Cas asks after Charlie leaves.

 

“Your costume, the alias, the rest of it,” Dean replies. “Don’t be surprised if Charlie tries to convince you to grow a beard or something.”

 

“Did she convince you?”

 

Dean scratches his chin. “Yeah, it was her idea. Do you mind?”

 

“It looks good,” Cas offers. “I don’t mind.”

 

“So, I was kind of thinking about meeting a friend for drinks tonight,” Dean says. “Do you want to join me?”

 

“I would like that,” Cas says gravely. “If you don’t mind me joining you.”

 

“No, man, you should meet Roger,” Dean replies. “He’s my normal friend.”

 

“And the others are not normal?” Cas responds.

 

Dean shrugs. “Well, sure, for a certain value of the word. But meeting up to play pretend isn’t exactly what the average person does.”

 

“The average person doesn’t know what we do,” Cas says.

 

That seems like a strange thing to say, but Cas is kind of an odd dude. “No, I guess not. So, you want to come out for a drink?”

 

“I’d like that,” Cas says.

 

“Do you want to get cleaned up first?” Dean asks.

 

Cas winces. “I probably should.”

 

“You can come back to my place,” Dean offers. “We’re about the same size. You can borrow something.”

 

Cas blushes slightly. “You wouldn’t mind?”

 

“No, it’s fine,” Dean replies, trying not to let on how much he’d like to see Cas wearing his clothes.

 

“Then I would be okay with that,” Cas replies.

 

Dean is glad that he cleaned recently, and he drives them back to his place. “I’ll let you take first shower,” he says. “I have to tell Roger we’re on for the night. I’ll grab you something to wear.”

 

He quickly texts Roger to let him know they’re on, and grabs a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt for Cas. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabs a clean pair of socks and underwear, too, ones he hasn’t worn much.

 

Maybe Cas would prefer to go commando, but Dean figures he’ll offer the option anyway.

 

“I’m leaving the clothes outside the door,” Dean calls, knocking briskly.

 

“Thanks!”

 

This is the first time Dean has had a naked person in his apartment in months, and he doesn’t want to blow it.

 

When Cas emerges, damp and flushed, Dean really wants to jump him. Instead, he pats Cas on the shoulder. “Make yourself at home. Whatever’s in the fridge is yours, feel free to use the TV or check out anything on the bookshelf.”

 

Dean takes a quick shower, trims his beard, and pulls on clean clothes, although he sticks to jeans and a Lawrence Fire Department t-shirt.

 

When he comes out, Cas is paging through a photo album that had been his mom’s graduation gift with a wistful smile on his face. “I’m pretty sure Mom included the most embarrassing photos she had,” Dean says.

 

“I haven’t seen any embarrassing pictures,” Cas replies, glancing up. “You are and were very attractive, Dean.”

 

Dean can feel his face heat up. “Thanks. I’ll bet you were cute as a kid, too.”

 

Cas glances away. “I don’t have any photos of myself as a child.”

 

Dean isn’t sure what to do with that, so he gives into the impulse to kiss him, cupping Cas’ cheek and leaning in. Cas meets him halfway, his lips warm and willing, and the kiss carries a bit of heat. When they break off, Dean leans his forehead against Cas’ and breathes, “Okay?”

 

“Very okay,” Cas replies.

 

“Too much more of this, and I’m not sure I’d let you leave,” Dean warns him.

 

Cas smiles. “Who says I would want to?”

 

“You want to come back here after?” Dean asks. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not up for.”

 

“I’d like to stay with you tonight,” Cas replies eagerly.

 

Dean thinks that maybe they’re moving a little too fast, but he doesn’t care. “We’d better get going, or Roger is going to think we stood him up.”

 

Cas hasn’t moved away. “I suppose we should go.”

 

Dean laughs and pulls back. “Okay, we’re going.”

 

The bar he and Roger frequent is within walking distance of his apartment, so he doesn’t have to worry about driving if he’s less than sober. He’s known Roger since high school, when they’d wrestled against each other. Roger went on to do a hitch in the Army and still serves in the Guard while going to school. They’d reconnected over shared classes—Roger is also going into nursing, although his interest is pediatrics—and similar backgrounds.

 

Roger was also raised by a single mother who is very invested in his success, although he has three older sisters who are on his case, too.

 

He greets Dean with a backslapping hug. “Good to see you, man.”

 

“You, too,” Dean replies.

 

“Is this the boyfriend?” Roger asks, turning a friendly smile to Cas.

 

Dean hesitates, since he hasn’t exactly had that conversation with Cas, but Cas holds out a hand. “I am,” he replies. “It’s nice to meet you.”

 

And just like that, their relationship is defined.

 

Roger grins, his big hand enveloping Cas’. “Good to meet you, too. I think you’re the first date Dean’s introduced around.”

 

“I think I’ve met most of Dean’s friends now,” Cas replies.

 

Roger’s shaved head reflects the light from the bar as he gives Dean a look. “Seriously, Winchester? That’s moving pretty fast.”

 

Dean shrugs. “When it’s right, it’s right.”

 

Cas’ shy grin is everything Dean needs.

 

**Then**

 

“Hey,” Sam says, sitting down next to Cas at the table in the bunker, holding out a beer. “How are you?”

 

Castiel takes the beer desultorily. “I should be asking you that.”

 

Sam rubs his bruised jaw. “Yeah, Michael packs a punch.”

 

Castiel rotates the bottle between his hands. “I thought we would have Dean back by now.”

 

Dean had said yes three weeks ago, and Castiel had not allowed himself to think about the possibility that they would not get him back.

 

“You can’t lose hope,” Sam urges. “I know things seem bleak right now, but we’re going to get Dean back.”

 

“We haven’t had much luck with archangels,” Cas points out fatalistically.

 

“Jack could kick Michael out,” Sam says. “Once he gets his powers back.”

 

Cas takes a long pull of his beer. “You’re assuming that he will. Lucifer drained his grace, Sam. I’ve been there before, and getting it back—won’t be easy, even if it’s possible.”

 

“Cas, hey,” Sam says, wrapping a hand around the back of Cas’ neck. “Where is this coming from?”

 

Cas can’t look away. “You know how I feel about Dean?”

 

“I think everybody knows,” Sam replies, his expression sympathetic. “You share a profound bond.”

 

“It’s more than that,” Cas replies.

 

Sam chuckles. “I know that, too.”

 

Cas’ hand tightens around the bottle. “I’m afraid.”

 

“Me, too,” Sam admits, releasing him, only to grip Cas’ shoulder. “Hang in there, Cas.”

 

Castiel is fairly certain that he should be the one comforting Sam, but he’s grateful for the hand on his shoulder, the reassuring words. “You as well.”

 

“We’ll hang together,” Sam promises.

 

And he keeps that promise until Castiel goes to his knees and begs for a miracle.

 

**Now**

 

At the end of the night, Roger gives Dean a bro-hug, and then does the same for Cas. “You’re a cool dude,” Roger says. “Take care of this lug, huh?”

 

“I will,” Cas replies. “As much as he lets me.”

 

Roger lets out a big laugh. “I think he has your number, Dean.”

 

“Yeah, he totally gets me,” Dean agrees amiably. “See you soon, Rog.”

 

“Don’t have too much fun,” Roger replies and bids them farewell.

 

Cas feels his heart beating hard as they leave the bar and head towards Dean’s apartment. He told Dean that he’d been with another man, but he hasn’t, and he’s afraid that Dean will see his inexperience and know that he’s lying.

 

They’re about a block away from the bar when Dean reaches for his hand, intertwining their fingers. “Is this okay?” Dean asks.

 

“Yes,” Cas replies, his voice hoarse. “It’s—been a while.”

 

“Hey, I told you, we don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” Dean says gently. “We can just sleep if that’s all you want to do.”

 

“I believe I’d like to do more, but I don’t want you to be disappointed,” Cas replies.

 

Dean stops, using his hold on Cas’ hand to pull him close. “That’s not possible,” Dean insists. “Today has been incredible. I just want to spend time with you.”

 

Cas swallows. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

 

Dean steps in, his free hand going to Cas’ cheek. “We can figure it out together. There’s no way I could be disappointed in anything you do, Castiel.”

 

His heart is in his throat when Dean leans in, and this kiss is even better than the last, warm and careful and kind. Cas hears the needy sound he makes, and Dean chuckles through the kiss, one hand squeezing Cas’, the other stroking Cas’ cheek.

 

“Hey, we’re good,” Dean says when he breaks off the kiss. “We’re just going to go back to my place, and then we’re going to do whatever we both want to do.”

 

The entire day has felt like a dream, from sparring with Dean—which felt familiar and not—to wearing Dean’s clothing, to having drinks with Dean’s friend, to this, now. To Dean’s lips on his, to Dean’s hand in his.

 

There’s so much about this world that’s unfamiliar, and Cas feels uncertain, but not about this, not about having Dean.

 

“Come on,” Dean says, slinging an arm over Cas’ shoulders.

 

Dean leads him into the apartment. “First off, what’s off the table tonight?”

 

“I…nothing?” Cas hazards, because he would give Dean everything he has.

 

Dean smiles. “You say stop, we’ll stop. I say stop, we stop. We good?”

 

“Yes,” he chokes out, because he wants this more than he can say.

 

Dean leads him to the couch, and they make out for long, lazy minutes, Dean’s hands finding the warm skin under Cas’ borrowed t-shirt. He whimpers as the unfamiliar sensation builds, and Dean soothes him with lips and hands.

 

“Shirt off okay?” Dean asks.

 

“Yes,” Cas replies, allowing Dean to pull the shirt off over his head. Dean tugs his own off, and then it’s bare skin to bare skin, and Dean’s hand is on his dick over his jeans, and Cas thrusts his hips up _once_ , and he’s gone.

 

When he realizes what’s happened, he blushes. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No, hey, don’t apologize,” Dean is quick to say. “That was super hot, and really flattering.”

 

Cas won’t meet his eyes. “I didn’t want—”

 

Dean’s hand tilts his head back. “I am completely okay with what just happened. Are you?”

 

“Yes,” he admits, because even though he’s embarrassed, it’s the best he’s felt in—well, ever.

 

“Are you okay with me getting off, too?” Dean asks.

 

Cas hesitates. “I could help?”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t mind a hand,” Dean admits. “But only if you’re cool with it.”

 

And he is, although he isn’t sure what he’s doing, but Dean offers some direction, and when he comes all over Cas’ hand, Dean pulls him close and kisses him, and Cas can’t help but cling a bit, even if his jeans are really uncomfortable right now.

 

“Let’s go to bed,” Dean suggests, and Cas goes willingly, so grateful to have this much.

 

~~~~~

 

Dean wakes up early the next morning, his arms full of Cas, who’s wrapped around him like an octopus. He doesn’t really mind, although some of Cas’ responses the night before worry Dean, mostly because he likes the guy.

 

He’s pretty sure that Cas is starved for touch, and he’s certainly less experienced than Dean thought he’d be, and Dean just wants to curl around him and protect him from the world.

 

Dean is falling hard, and he’s falling fast, and he’s not sure he even cares.

 

He runs a hand down the length of Cas’ spine. “Hey, I have to go to class,” he murmurs.

 

Cas mumbles something sleepily, not loosening his hold, and Dean chuckles. “Come on, Cas. I need to get cleaned up. I have sociology in an hour.”

 

He can tell when Cas wakes fully, because he stiffens and pulls away. “Hey, it’s okay. I just need to get to class.”

 

Cas is blushing as he turns his face into Dean’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

 

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Dean asks. “I had a really great evening. I just want to know when I can see you again.”

 

“As soon as possible?” Cas suggests, looking up to meet Dean’s eyes. “If you don’t mind.”

 

“I can come by the library tonight,” Dean offers. “We can get a late dinner, maybe watch a movie?”

 

“I’d like that,” Cas replies.

 

“I’ll drop you back by your place, if you want,” Dean offers.

 

“Thanks. For everything,” Cas says.

 

“You are so welcome,” Dean replies. “It was really my pleasure.”

 

Dean is reluctant to say goodbye, although he’s heartened to see Cas’ similar reluctance. He forces himself to concentrate on his classes, and has every intention on napping during his break so he can be fresh for Cas tonight.

 

And then his phone rings, and he sees his mom’s name on the caller ID. “Ah, hell,” Dean mutters. He really thought it would take his mom longer to contact him. He expected her to give him a couple of weeks to cool off, and then contact him for their monthly dinner as though nothing happened. It would be par for the course.

 

Dean considers letting it go to voicemail, but his mom tends to worry, and Dean knows he’ll be ruminating on it if he doesn’t answer. “Hey, Mom.”

 

Mary is silent at first. “I thought I’d get your voicemail. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

 

Dean rolls his eyes. “I was going to catch a nap before my afternoon classes.”

 

“Well, I won’t keep you long,” Mary replies. “Do you want to get dinner sometime?”

 

“I have plans for tonight, and I work at 7 the next few days,” Dean replies, not giving an inch.

 

“Maybe your next day off?” Mary suggests.

 

Dean grimaces. He’s not sure how much he’ll be able to see Cas while he’s working, and Tuesday night will probably the first time they’ll be able to spend extended time together. “That would be Tuesday.”

 

“Do you have plans?” Mary asks.

 

“Not yet, but Cas gets off at 7, and I’ll probably want to see him,” Dean replies, holding the line.

 

“This sounds serious,” Mary replies, sounding more amused than anything else.

 

Dean hesitates. “I don’t know. I really like him.”

 

“Well, I’d like to meet him when you’re ready to introduce us,” Mary replies, sound completely upbeat. Maybe she’s decided to pretend their last confrontation hadn’t happened after all. “But if you can make the time, I’d like to have dinner with you soon.”

 

“How about an early dinner on Tuesday?” Dean suggests.

 

“I’ll see you at 5:30,” Mary replies. “Just let me know where you want to eat.”

 

At least she’s expecting their conversation to be civil, since they’re meeting in a public place. “There’s that Mexican place near campus, Mi Tierra?”

 

“That sounds good,” his mom replies. “I’ll see you there.”

 

Dean has _no idea_ what to do with that, and a quick check of the clock tells him that he has a shot of catching Charlie on her lunch break. He can’t lay this on Cas, not this early in their relationship. Later on, when they know each other better, Dean can talk to him about this sort of thing, but right now he needs his best friend.

 

Charlie picks up immediately. “How was your night? I need to know _everything_.”

 

Dean laughs. “My night was amazing, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

 

“What?” Charlie protests. “Not enough details, Dean! Tell me you at least made it to second base.”

 

“We’re adults, Charlie,” Dean replies. “We don’t use bases.”

 

“You did!”

 

“He spent the night,” Dean admits. “And he is just as adorable in bed as he is in everything else. And before you say it, yes, I have it bad.”

 

She squeals. “I’m so happy for you!” Charlie clears her throat. “And now I am totally here for whatever serious conversation you want to have.”

 

“Mom called, and she wants to meet for dinner next week,” Dean begins.

 

“Not unusual in and of itself, so my superior powers of deduction say that something happened,” Charlie comments.

 

Dean sighs. “I might have come out to my mom.”

 

There’s a long pause. “You came out to your mom and you didn’t tell me?”

 

“I didn’t have time!” Dean protests. “We had breakfast with Cas, and then he came to fighter practice, and then he came home with me.”

 

“I will admit that hot sex with cute person is a balm for the spirit, so I will forgive you,” Charlie says magnanimously. “I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”

 

“Well, she didn’t kick me out or threaten to disown me,” Dean says. “But she did ask why I couldn’t just date a woman.”

 

“The curse of bi-folk everywhere,” Charlie comments. “The old ‘why can’t you just be normal when you’re already halfway there?’”

 

“Pretty much,” Dean replies.

 

“So, I’m guessing you stood your ground.”

 

“I told her that I wasn’t going to fall in love with a woman if I fell in love with a man,” Dean replies. “And then I told her that she needed to let go of the vision she had of the perfect kid she had, and see me for who I am.”

 

Charlie whistles. “Bad ass, my general.”

 

“So, now she wants to have dinner in a public place,” Dean says. “And I’m not sure why.”

 

“Maybe she just doesn’t want to cook, and doesn’t want to make you cook either?” Charlie asks. “Knowing your mom, it’s probably that simple.”

 

“You think?” Dean asks.

 

Charlie sighs. “Look, I know every gay kid in the history of ever wishes for immediate love and acceptance from parents and guardians, but the reality is that even the most accepting need some time to adjust.”

 

“So, you think she’s had time to adjust?” Dean asks.

 

“I think that woman loves you more than life itself,” Charlie replies. “Which is why she sometimes annoys you to death.”

 

Dean takes a deep breath. “So, go in with an open mind?”

 

“And don’t be afraid to walk out if she’s awful,” Charlie orders. “Not that I think she will be, but you have friends, and we’re your family, too.”

 

Dean smiles. “She said she wanted to meet Cas.”

 

“Why didn’t you lead with that?” Charlie demands. “That’s great news!”

 

“Unless she wants to meet him to threaten him,” Dean counters.

 

Charlie snorts. “Unlikely. Also, I’ve seen Cas at work, and I think he would stand a decent chance against your mom.”

 

“I should catch a nap before my next class,” Dean says. “Thanks, Charlie.”

 

“Love you, too,” Charlie says cheerfully. “Are you seeing Cas again tonight?”

 

“I might be picking him up from work,” Dean admits.

 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

 

Dean laughs, because he’s pretty sure there isn’t anything Charlie wouldn’t do. “Sure thing.”

 

And, as always, he feels better for having talked with her.

 

**Then**

 

The next time Dean has dealings with the Harvelles, he’s a rookie fireman on a rare day off, and he’s sleeping in. The knock on his apartment door pulls him out of bed, and he throws on a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt.

 

When he opens the door, he sees Bill Harvelle and a bloody Jo. “Come in,” Dean says. “What happened?”

 

“She followed me,” Bill replies, disgruntled. “And the hospital is our last option.”

 

“’m fine,”Jo mumbles.

 

“Put her on the couch,” Dean says. “I’ll let you know if she needs the hospital.”

 

He’s operating on autopilot as he checks Jo out. She has a black eye and split lip, and Dean is guessing the blood on her shirt is from her nose. It looks like there’s blood on her leg, too, maybe from a knife wound.

 

“I’m going to have to cut your jeans to assess the wound,” Dean says. “You okay with that, Jo?”

 

She nods, biting her lip.

 

“Let me grab my kit,” Dean says.

 

He tends to keep a bag on hand, the same as a lot of guys, since there’s no telling when he’ll come across a car accident or some other trauma, and will need a basic first aid kit. Dean keeps his in his car, so he tells them he’ll be right back and goes to grab it.

 

Dean has antiseptic, bandages, gauze, safety scissors, the basics. He comes back into the apartment and addresses the knife wound first. There’s a makeshift bandage, and he cuts through that and her jeans, revealing the laceration.

 

“This looks like a knife wound,” Dean says.

 

Bill grunts. “Damn fool girl walked into an ambush for a shapeshifter and got used as a hostage.”

 

His gruff words belie his concern, and it’s clear he’s freaked out, so Dean ignores him. “Any other injuries that aren’t so obvious?”

 

“My ribs,” Jo admits quietly, whimpering as Dean cuts the leg off her jeans just above the wound.

 

“Well, they obviously didn’t hit an artery,” Dean says, “but it probably needs stitches.”

 

“Can’t you do it?” Bill asks.

 

Dean gives him a look. “I’m not trained to stitch someone up, for one, and I don’t have a suture kit.”

 

“There’s no way to explain this,” Bill protests.

 

Dean sighs. “Okay, let me see what I can do.”

 

The laceration is right at the edge of needing stitches. Stitches would reduce scarring, but barring complications, she’ll heal up fine. He uses steri-strips to close it up, and then wraps it tightly. “You’re going to scar, but you should recover. You should see your regular doctor, because you might need a tetanus shot or antibiotics, or both.”

 

“Don’t move,” Dean tells Jo. “I’m going to get you some water. You need to rehydrate. I’ll get you some ice and get your ribs checked out in a second, right after Bill calls Ellen.”

 

Jo grimaces.“Do you have to?”

 

“If your mom is anything like mine, she’s worried sick, and there’s no way you’re going to be able to hide these injuries, so that means she’s going to be even more pissed off when she sees you if you haven’t called.”

 

“He’s right, Jo-jo,” Bill says, looking a little less freaked out now that a hospital visit isn’t imminent. “I’ll call your mom, but she’s going to be pretty ticked when she sees you.”

 

Jo groans. “She’s gonna kill me!”

 

“Should have thought of that before you followed me,” Bill replies, with a bit of humor. “You know what your mom would say.”

 

“That’s why you shouldn’t call her!” Jo protests.

 

Bill snorts. “You know what your mom said—not until you’re 18. Last I checked, you have a couple years to go before you’re allowed on a hunt.”

 

“No fair!” Jo protests.

 

Dean gives her a look. “Listen to me, kiddo. You got lucky. If that laceration had been a little deeper, and maybe just a centimeter to the left, they’d have hit an artery. Your dad wouldn’t have been able to get you to help in time. You would have bled out, and then your dad would have been calling your mom telling her you were dead.”

 

He’s blunt, because he feels like he needs to be blunt, and Jo stares at him, just a little shocked.

 

“You got lucky that your femoral artery wasn’t nicked,” Dean repeats. “Because you wouldn’t have walked away from that.”

 

Jo flushes. “It wasn’t that bad.”

 

“It was exactly that bad,” Dean insists, although he’s maybe exaggerating just a hair. “You want to hunt? Know that if you do, someone might have to call your mom about your dead body. That’s the reality.”

 

Bill raises his eyebrows, but he doesn’t argue with Dean or tell him he’s out of line. “I’ll call Ellen. Thank you, Dean.” He gives Jo a meaningful look.

 

“Thank you,” Jo echoes, although with a little less sincerity.

 

“I’ll get you some ice and a wrap for your ribs,” Dean says, giving Bill some privacy to talk to Ellen.

 

When he returns with ice and an ace bandage, Bill hands him the phone. “Ellen wants to talk to you, and she’s not taking my reassurances at face value.”

 

Dean takes the phone. “This is Dean Winchester.”

 

“This is Ellen,” she replies. “I want to know how Jo and Bill are, and I want no bullshitting.”

 

Dean glances at Jo. “Bill’s fine, and Jo’s beat up, but nothing life threatening. I’m not sending her to the hospital, and while she might need antibiotics and a tetanus booster, she’ll be fine.”

 

He can hear Ellen’s scowl. “Is she going to scar?”

 

“Almost certainly,” Dean replies. “But she’ll live.”

 

“Your mama raised you right, Dean,” Ellen said. “Thanks for taking care of my family.”

 

“Always, Mrs. Harvelle,” Dean replies.

 

“You send them home, Dean.”

 

“Will do.”

 

Dean hangs up and he tells Bill and Jo, “She wants you back at home. Once I’ve finished patching Jo up, you should probably head back.”

 

“We’ve infringed on your hospitality enough,” Bill replies. “Dean, you are a credit to your mom. You want me to forget to mention that there’s a Winchester with EMT training?”

 

“Nah,” Dean replies. “A life saved is a life saved, and if I can help, I will.”

 

Bill claps him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Dean.”

 

Dean finishes up by giving Jo an icepack for her face and wrapping her ribs. She’s subdued, but Dean isn’t offended. If she survives to old age, he’ll be happy with the lecture he gave.

 

Bill shakes his hand before he leaves. “Thanks, Dean.”

 

“Any time,” Dean replies. “No problem.”

 

He’ll be tired tomorrow, for sure, but he feels like he’s done something right.

 

**Now**

 

Dean doesn’t have much time to see Cas over the next few days. They text a couple of times, but that’s about it. He has his shifts, and he has a few things to get done for school, and there’s a part of him that’s worried they’re moving too fast. He’s not interested in putting on the brakes, exactly, but he’s okay with taking a bit of a break to catch his breath.

 

“Is Tuesday okay?” Dean asks on Monday morning when he calls him after his shift is over. He’s aching to fall into bed, but he waited long enough to call Cas without worrying that he’s waking him up.

 

“Tuesday is good,” Cas replies warmly. “Will you be too tired?”

 

“Well, I’ll be tired, but hopefully not _too_ tired,” Dean replies. “I’m meeting my mom for dinner, but I can pick you up after your shift?”

 

“I would like that,” Cas replies. There’s a pause, and he adds, “I’ve missed you.”

 

“Me, too,” Dean replies, admitting it like a guilty secret. “I’ve really missed you, too.”

 

Cas lets out an audible breath. “You have?”

 

“Yeah, man,” Dean says. “Of course. I’ve just been busy with work, but—are we on for Wednesday fighter practice, too?”

 

“Yes, I would like that.”

 

Dean is left grinning dumbly. “Okay. I’ll see you Tuesday after work.”

 

“See you then,” Cas says warmly.

 

He just has to get through one more shift, and then dinner with his mom, and he can see Cas again. He’s looking forward to it more than he can say.

 

Sarah ribs him a bit when he gets to the hospital for his shift Monday night. “So, how’s Cas?”

 

“I haven’t had time to see him,” Dean admits. “Tomorrow, though, after he’s done with work.”

 

Sarah smirks at him. “Are you going to ask him to move in with you?”

 

“It’s a little early for that,” Dean protests. “And have you seen Charlie again? You guys seem to have hit it off.”

 

“She’s cute,” Sarah admits, “and she is very okay with something casual for now. From what you told me about her, I thought she’d want to get serious right away.”

 

Dean frowns. “Nah. Charlie is really serious about some things, like LARP-ing and friendships, but she keeps it casual until she’s sure it’s serious. You know?”

 

“I didn’t know, but I should have asked,” Sarah replies. “Because she’s really cute, and apparently geek enthusiasm is hot.”

 

Dean snorts. “You didn’t know that already?”

 

“The only geek I’m well acquainted with is you,” Sarah points out, “and you’re not my type.”

 

Dean smirks. “I knew you’d like Charlie.”

 

“Yes, you’ve told me before how you share the same type when it comes to women,” Sarah says dryly. “Personally, I think you’re a little gayer than that.”

 

“I like women,” Dean protests. “It’s just—Cas. He’s adorkable and nicely shaped. And he can wield a sword!”

 

“He is absolutely perfect for you, and I’m glad you’re not sabotaging this,” Sarah says firmly.

 

The radio crackles to life, and Dean smiles. “I guess that’s us.”

 

“Charlie said you came out to your mom,” Sarah says once they get underway. “That’s big.”

 

Dean winces. “I probably should have told you, huh?”

 

“Not if you don’t want to talk about it,” Sarah replies. “We’re partners, but I’m not going to push you for information you don’t want to share.”

 

“I’m meeting her for dinner tomorrow,” Dean admits. “At a restaurant, by her suggestion, so I don’t know.”

 

“Dean, you have friends who know everything and accept you, and it sounds like your mom is trying,” Sarah points out. “I get being apprehensive and freaking out, but you’re a hot EMT with a cute boyfriend. Enjoy what you do have.”

 

“Right,” Dean agrees. “I should definitely do that.”

 

Sarah slaps him on the shoulder. “From what you’ve said, your mom loves you, and she’d do anything for you.”

 

Dean has been dreading this conversation for so long, he doesn’t know what to do now that it’s finally over, all but the aftermath. “Yeah.”

 

“At least your mom hasn’t cut off contact,” Sarah says kindly.

 

“I know,” Dean replies. “I just…I don’t know.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Sarah says. “Just go to dinner, then bury yourself in Cas later.”

 

Dean glances at her, scandalized. “Sarah!”

 

She grins at him, unrepentant. “Hey, you do you, Winchester, but even I know the dude is cute. And he has a cute butt.”

 

Dean thinks about Cas’ ass, and he can’t help but agree. “Yeah.”

 

“Well, there you go,” Sarah replies. “Think about his butt when you’re having dinner with your mom.”

 

Dean glares at her. “Are you kidding me?”

 

“Well, not if you’re going to sport a hard on,” Sarah replies. “But it’s something to think about.”

 

Dean feels himself blushing. “Shut up.”

 

Sarah just grins. “Bet you’ll be thinking about something else now.”

 

“You are terrible,” Dean says.

 

Sarah smirks. “You know it. As long as I’m great at my job, I don’t really care.”

 

It’s a busy night. They have a couple of 911 calls from assisted living facilities with older folks, and a call from a woman about her boyfriend who’s taken a bunch of pills and won’t wake up. They get him on oxygen and to the hospital, where he’ll likely be intubated and have his stomach pumped, and then head out on their next call—alcohol poisoning at a fraternity on campus. He’ll likely face the same fate.

 

By the time their shift ends, they’re both so wrung out, they don’t say anything more than muted goodbyes. He somehow makes it through his classes, with just enough time for a power nap before he has to meet his mom for dinner.

 

He shows up at the restaurant on time, only to find that Mary is already there, seated at a corner table, her back to the wall. Dean can’t blame her, knowing what he does about the hunting life. “Hi, Mom.”

 

“Hi, sweetheart,” Mary replies, getting up to hug him. “How was work?”

 

“Busy,” Dean admits. “We had a lot of calls last night.”

 

Mary nods. “Anything interesting?”

 

“Mostly depressing,” Dean admits. “There was an attempted suicide and an alcohol poisoning. It wasn’t great.”

 

“And how is Cas?” she asks as their waiter brings a basket of tortilla chips and a dish of salsa.

 

“I don’t know,” Dean replies. “Good, I think. I haven’t seen him for a few days. Work has been busy.”

 

“But you like him,” Mary presses.

 

Dean hesitates. “Yeah, sure. He’s—he’s great.”

 

“No pressure, but what would he say to coming to our house for Thanksgiving?” Mary asks.

 

“I don’t know,” Dean replies. “I mean, he doesn’t have a family, so maybe? I don’t get why you’re asking, though.”

 

“I talked to Ellen,” Mary admits in a low voice. “She had a few things to say to me, and most of them were deserved.”

 

Dean doesn’t ask who called who. If Mary called Ellen, he can just imagine what Ellen had said. “What? That I didn’t fail you as a son?”

 

“I never thought that,” Mary says quickly. “I _never_ believed that. You have always been a good kid, Dean, and you’re a good man. You’re helping people, and I know that.”

 

It’s not totally convincing, but Dean nods. “Thanks.”

 

“Dean, I’m saying that I’m sorry for not accepting you immediately,” Mary adds. “I love you, and I will love whoever you choose to love, and I’m sorry that wasn’t clear before.”

 

Dean had no idea what to do with that. “Mom—”

 

“Ellen had a few things to say about it,” Mary admits. “She’s always liked you, and she told me a few home truths.”

 

Dean isn’t sure he likes the idea that Ellen had to be the one to tell his mom that she should step off, but he’s not displeased. Ellen has always been kind to him, and she’s always liked him for reasons he’s not entirely clear about.

 

“Thanks, Mom,” Dean replies. “I appreciate hearing that.” He pauses. “You didn’t tell Ellen about me being bi?”

 

“No, of course not,” Mary says quickly. “I don’t want to out you before you’re ready, but I think they’re coming for Thanksgiving, so if you bring Cas, they’ll find out then.”

 

Dean doesn’t think he minds if the Harvelles know. Jo might be a little less obvious about her crush if she knows he’s dating a guy. “That’s fine.”

 

“Does Sam know?” Mary asks.

 

Dean laughs. “You’d think, but no, I don’t think he does. Charlie was the first to know, but she won’t out someone before they’re ready.”

 

“So, all this time, when we kept asking you if you were dating Charlie, you guys were just friends?” Mary asks, her mouth twisting with wry amusement.

 

Dean shrugs. “Pretty much.”

 

“I won’t say anything to Sam unless or until you say I can,” Mary replies. “Where’s Charlie going for Thanksgiving this year?”

 

“No idea,” Dean replies. “But I know if I ask her over, she’s going to ask who’s cooking.”

 

Mary laughs. “Fair enough. I was hoping you’d help with that.”

 

Dean smiles, feeling as though they’re back on solid ground. “Sure. We can ask everybody to bring something. I can do the turkey and potatoes.”

 

“Good,” Mary smiles. “You’ll do a better job than I will.”

 

Dean has actually cooked a turkey for the guys at the firehouse before, and while it was a little dry, it wasn’t too obvious with the gravy. “You said it, not me,” Dean replies.

 

Mary gives him a dirty look. “I’ll take care of the green bean casserole.”

 

“Are you actually going to make the casserole, or are you going to get it from the grocery store?” Dean asks.

 

“There’s a recipe on the back of the onion container,” Mary replies. “And it involves canned soup. I think I’ll be fine.”

 

Dean laughs, knowing that he’s probably going to end up making the casserole himself. “Yeah, you’ll be fine.”

 

“Are we good?” Mary asks.

 

Dean nods. “Yeah, Mom, we’re good.”

 

“Are you going to bring Cas by for dinner?” Mary asks.

 

“Sure,” Dean replies, deciding that if he’s in for a penny, he might as well be in for a pound. “Maybe in a couple of weeks?”

 

“Just let me know when,” Mary replies.

 

And for the first time in a long time, Dean feels like he’s getting his mom’s unconditional support and approval.

 

**Then**

 

Dean leans against the locker next to Kurt, who he’s been interested in for months now. He’s pretty sure Kurt is gay; Dean gets that feeling from him. Kurt is on the tennis team, the FBLA, and Dean’s caught him staring at the quarterback’s ass on multiple occasions. Dean’s pretty sure that Kurt has been checking _him_ out, too.

 

“You going to that party this weekend?” Dean asks.

 

Kurt glances at him. “I thought I might. What about you?”

 

“Yeah, I thought I would,” Dean replies. He leans in just a little closer. They’re close to the end of senior year, they’re both graduating, and Dean figures he can take a little bit of a risk. The hallway is mostly deserted, and Dean figures it’s now or never. “You want to go together?”

 

Kurt freezes like a deer in the headlights. “What?”

 

“Do you want to go to the party with me?” Dean asks, offering his best flirtatious smile. “It would be fun.”

 

The punch comes out of nowhere, taking Dean completely by surprise and knocking him on his ass. “I’m not fucking gay!” Kurt says, keeping his voice low.

 

Dean blinks, rubbing his jaw. “Yeah, well, neither am I, dude. I’m bi.”

 

“I’m not a faggot!” Kurt says, as though Dean hadn’t heard him the first time, or as though Kurt wants to get in an insult.

 

“Yeah, I got that,” Dean says dryly, clambering to his feet. “Tell you what, let’s both forget to mention this incident to anybody.”

 

Kurt stands with his fists clenched, breathing heavily, and he’s apparently a lot deeper in the closet than Dean thought. “Yeah. You tell anybody, and—”

 

“And what?” Dean asks. “If anybody asks, I’ll tell them it was over a girl.”

 

Kurt slams his locker shut and stalks off down the hall. Dean wonders how he had managed to read him so wrong.

 

“He actually is gay, you know.”

 

Dean glances up to see Charlie standing in front of him. “What are you doing here, kiddo?”

 

“Computer science tutoring session,” she replies. “I’m like two grades ahead.”

 

Dean runs a hand through his hair. “I suppose you heard most of that.”

 

“I heard enough,” Charlie replies.

 

She’s Sam’s friend, and Dean likes her, but he’s not ready for Sam and his mom to know that he’s bi. “Look—”

 

“I’m not going to tell anybody,” Charlie says impatiently. “I just want to know if you’re okay.”

 

“Normally, I can tell if someone is interested,” Dean admits.

 

Charlie gives him a sympathetic look. “I’m pretty sure the only person who doesn’t know Kurt is gay is Kurt. Sucks to be that far in the closet.”

 

Dean remembers that she came out last year. “You could say that. But I’m okay. My ego is a little bruised, and my jaw is a little sore, but I’ll be fine.”

 

“You sure Kurt’s not going to out you?” Charlie asks, concerned. She’s a pint-sized terror, and Dean really likes her.

 

“I think Kurt’s too freaked out about someone thinking he’s gay to think about outing me,” Dean replies. “And we’re nearly at the end of the school year.”

 

Charlie smiles at him. “I think that was a really brave thing to do.”

 

Dean reaches out and tugs on her ponytail. “Thanks, kid.”

 

“I gotta go,” Charlie says. “I’m already late.”

 

Dean takes a deep breath, shakes it off, and decides that he’s not going to waste any time thinking about Kurt and his issues. He’s a cute guy, but he’s not interested, and there are plenty of other fish in the sea.

 

**Now**

 

Cas stands outside the library with his duffel bag in hand, feeling a little bereft when Dean isn’t waiting for him. He knows Dean is meeting with Mary for dinner, so he might be running a little late, but there’s also a part of Cas that wonders if maybe Mary said something to Dean. What if Dean decides he doesn’t want this, doesn’t want Cas? As close as they’d been in that other life, Cas doesn’t think Dean had been interested in him as more than a friend.

 

Except for right at the end, right before Dean said yes, maybe.

 

And then Cas sees Dean’s familiar truck pull up in front of the library, and he jogs down the steps to climb in.

 

Dean leans over the console to greet Cas with a kiss. “Hey, man. Sorry I’m late. Dinner ran longer than I expected.”

 

“Is everything okay?” Cas asks.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Dean says easily, and a grin breaks out over his face. “Better than okay, actually. It was a good dinner. You hungry? I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten, so I got an extra meal.”

 

“I am hungry,” Cas admits. “But you didn’t have to do that.”

 

“Well, I don’t really want to go out tonight, and I figured this was the easiest way of staying in.”

 

Cas clears his throat. “I brought enough clothing for a couple of days.”

 

Dean’s smile turns slightly predatory. “Good. Then we really won’t have to go anywhere.”

 

Cas sets his duffel bag down just inside the door, feeling a little awkward and uncertain.

 

“Make yourself at home,” Dean invites. “I’ll heat up your food.” Dean kicks his shoes off, so Cas does the same. “I got you the same thing I had, so I hope you like it,” Dean says. “Their enchiladas are really good, and they reheat well.”

 

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Cas replies. “I’m not picky.”

 

“Good.” Dean grins at him. “It’s good to see you, Cas. I’ve missed you.”

 

“I’ve missed you as well,” Cas admits.

 

Dean draws him in for another kiss. “Well, we have a few days together.”

 

The enchiladas are as good as Dean promised, and Cas doesn’t remember eating something like this before, but he likes it. “We’ll have to go back together,” Dean says, clearly amused at Cas’ sounds of enjoyment. “You can try some of the other stuff they have on the menu. Have you had Mexican before?”

 

“Not that I remember,” Cas replies. “And I think I would have.”

 

“You haven’t eaten out much, have you?” Dean asks.

 

Cas shrugs. “I haven’t had many opportunities.”

 

“There are some pretty good places around Lawrence,” Dean says. “We could try them out. I don’t eat out much because it’s expensive, but I can show you around.”

 

“I’d like that,” Cas admits. He cleans his plate, and Dean places it neatly in the dishwasher.

 

“Do you want a beer?” Dean asks.

 

“I’d like that, too,” Cas replies.

 

“I have some homework to do, but it can wait another night,” Dean says. “You want to watch a movie?”

 

Cas has no problem with that. “Sure.”

 

Dean plugs a DVD in without asking Cas what he wants to watch, but it’s not like Cas cares. He stretches out on the couch and spreads his legs, and Cas takes that as the invitation that it is. Cas’ back to Dean’s front, Dean’s arm looped around his waist. The movie starts, but Cas isn’t paying much attention.

 

He feels Dean’s strong legs bracketing his, Dean’s warm, strong hand resting against his stomach, and Cas leans back, trying to relax. Dean’s dick is half-hard against his ass, but he doesn’t seem interested in doing anything about it right now.

 

Dean’s hand rubs his chest absently, and Cas relaxes a little more. He lets Dean’s warmth seep into him, and Dean rests his hand over Cas’ heart as they drink their beers.

 

The movie is filled with explosions and gunfire, and Cas asks, “What is this?”

 

“Seriously? You don’t know?” Dean asks, but he sounds amused more than anything else. “It’s _Die Hard_ , it’s a classic. I figured you’d have seen it, so we wouldn’t have to pay close attention.”

 

“I didn’t say I was paying much attention,” Cas replies, feeling Dean’s chuckle reverberate through his chest. “I’m just enjoying the company.”

 

Dean’s arm tightens around him. “Yeah, me too.” He presses his nose into the side of Cas’ neck, and Cas tips his chin up to give him better access.

 

He really doesn’t pay much attention to the movie after that, and Dean seems interested, so Cas finishes off his beer and shifts to straddle Dean’s waist.

 

“Hey, you,” Dean says, setting his own bottle aside.

 

Cas feels Dean’s warmth under him, feels the life in him, and he can’t help but clutch him a little tighter.

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Dean murmurs, gentling him, his hands stroking Cas’ back. “We’re okay.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Cas blurts out.

 

“What are you sorry for?” Dean asks.

 

Cas manages a smile. “For not being cooler about this. For having so much—” He stops, struggling to come up with the right word.

 

“So much baggage?” Dean suggests.

 

“Yes, that,” Cas replies. “I will probably hold you too tightly.”

 

“It’s kind of gratifying, to be honest,” Dean admits, his thumb stroking along Cas’ cheek.“I’ve had a few relationships, but you’re the first where I’ve felt like you want me as much as I want you.”

 

Cas leans in, succumbing to the impulse to kiss him with every bit of passion that he feels for Dean, and Dean returns in kind. He shoves a hand under Cas’ polo to the warm skin underneath, and Cas arches into the touch. Dean nips lightly at Cas’ exposed throat and then chuckles against his skin.

 

“Sorry,” Dean says “I’ll try not to leave marks.”

 

Cas is struggling to remember why that would be a problem. “I don’t mind.”

 

“You might when you get hazed tomorrow at work,” Dean counters, and moves a little lower down, where Cas’ shirt will cover any bruises.

 

“Shirts off?” Cas asks.

 

Dean grins at him. “Oh, yeah.”

 

It doesn’t take long for them to be down to their boxer briefs, and Dean asks, “Can I touch you?”

 

“Yes,” Cas replies, feeling a little desperate.

 

Dean laughs. “Yeah, I know the feeling. Feel free to return the favor.”

 

Cas has imagined this more than once, especially after Dean asked him out, his idle curiosity turning to fantasy, and he hooks a thumb in the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down, freeing his dick. Dean does the same, and Cas feels greatly daring as he rubs his dick against Dean’s.

 

“Yeah, that’s good,” Dean mutters. “That’s really good.”

 

His hand closes around Cas’, and they jack off together, Cas coming first, and hissing at the sensitivity. Dean switches his grip so that he’s just taking care of himself. When he comes, Cas is sweaty and sated and rather pleased with everything.

 

“We should get cleaned up so we don’t get stuck together,” Dean says, nuzzling Cas’ hair. “But this was great. Thanks.”

 

“I believe it was my pleasure,” Cas counters.

  
Dean chuckles. “Mine, too.”

 

They do get cleaned up, though, taking turns since Dean’s shower isn’t big enough for two. Dean is ready for bed at that point, saying that he hadn’t been able to get much sleep.

 

Falling into bed with Dean, curling into him, and sleeping next to him makes Cas wish he could do this every night. He can’t say that, because he knows it would be moving too fast from Dean’s perspective, so he’ll just have to enjoy what he has while he has it.

 

They have a chance to sleep in the next morning, since Cas doesn’t have to be at work until 10, and Charlie has a similarly late start and they’re meeting her for breakfast. For the first time since Chuck’s visit, Cas is beginning to feel at home, like he has a place here. Charlie greets him with a hug.

 

“Well, you look well rested,” Charlie teases.

 

Cas blinks. “Thank you, I am.”

 

Dean snorts. “He’s a bit literal, Charlie.” He claps Cas on the shoulder. “Not that I have a problem with that.”

 

Cas has heard that he takes things too literally before, but Dean has never so blatantly said he doesn’t mind. “Was she referring to the fact that we had sex?” he asks, knowing full well it is, but wanting to make Dean laugh.

 

Dean does so, his grin bright. “Yeah, something like that, Cas.”

 

Charlie wants to talk about their next LARP event and Cas’ persona. She thinks he should play the part of a defector. “I mean, no way is he a new recruit with his skills,” Charlie says.

 

“Yeah, sure, but isn’t that going to screw with the overall storyline?” Dean argues. “Maybe he could have been training in secret.”

 

Charlie purses her lips. “Well, I suppose you could have been training him.”

 

Cas doesn’t offer a lot of suggestions. Sword fighting he knows, but coming up with a story and persona he has no idea of what might make sense.

 

“What if he’s a rich nobleman?” Dean asks. “Who’s come to support our cause? He’ll have had the sword training that way.”

 

“Good idea,” Charlie says. “There are a few duchies that are in question. If he’s a younger son, no one is going to cry foul.”

 

Cas has no idea what that means, but Dean nods. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

 

“We could work in a romance,” Charlie suggests. “Maybe he joins our side out of love for my general.”

 

Dean glances at Cas. “You okay with that idea?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Cas asks. He thinks it will be easier than some of the other scenarios where he might have to pretend something he doesn’t feel.

 

Charlie gives Dean a significant look. “We’ll go with that, then. It will be quite the scandal.”

 

“Why would it be a scandal?” Cas asks.

 

“Because Dean has refused to be connected to anybody in Moondoor,” Charlie replies. “Like, he’s famous for being celibate.”

 

Dean blushes and clears his throat. “I’ve hardly been _celibate._ ”

 

“The next thing to it, then,” Charlie replies. “Oh, man, the _opportunities_. What if you had a longstanding romance, but Cas wasn’t ready to leave his family fortune, and then decided to throw it all away to be with you?”

 

Cas thinks that’s uncomfortably close to the truth, but he isn’t willing to say as much. “Whatever you decide.”

 

“We’ll talk about it,” Dean says. “You know what they’ll say when they find out we’re dating.”

 

“And they’ll shut up as soon as they see Cas fight,” Charlie points out. “But fair enough. We can slow roll it for now.”

 

Cas doesn’t have much to say about the rest of it, knowing next to nothing about the activity other than using a sword, and then he has to get to work. Dean drops him off with a kiss and a promise to pick him up at the end of the day, and Cas walks into the library in something of a daze.

 

He heads for a nearby sandwich shop on his break, and he runs into Missouri again, although not literally this time.

 

“Well, I’m a little disappointed you didn’t tell Dean about meeting a psychic, but impressed with your progress,” she says, patting him on the arm. “You’re doing good.”

 

“Am I?” Cas asks, the words slipping out before he can think better of them.

 

“Come on, I’ll buy you a sandwich, and we’ll talk,” she replies. “I thought you might need it. But I expect you to bring Dean by soon!”

 

“I can probably do that,” Cas replies cautiously. “You don’t think Dean will mind that you’re a psychic, do you?”

 

“Well, he might,” Missouri admits. “But he’s been pretty open with you, so I wouldn’t be too worried. Now, tell me about your date.”

 

Cas frowns. “Aren’t you psychic?”

 

Missouri laughs. “Sure, but I want to hear it from you, and I think you might need to talk about it.”

 

Cas hesitates. “I feel as though I’m holding him too close, and too tightly, but I don’t know how to stop.”

 

“Oh, honey,” Missouri says. “It’s human nature to hold tight to the things we think we might lose, and you’ve lost more than most. How has Dean reacted?”

 

“He said it was okay,” Cas replies, a little bewildered.

 

She pats him on the arm. “That means he likes you. You just need some reassurance, and that’s what time is for.”

 

“Then it will get better?” Cas asks.

 

“Of course,” Missouri promises, and Cas doesn’t know if that’s because she knows, or she’s being reassuring, but he’ll take it.

 

**Then**

 

Castiel thinks he might have fallen in love with Dean when he sees his old trench coat in the trunk of Dean’s car, but he doesn’t realize it until a morning spent at the bunker.

 

It’s after Dean takes the Mark of Cain, but before he succumbs to it. Cas winds up at the bunker for a couple of days. He turns up in the kitchen for breakfast, although he doesn’t need to eat it.

 

“Hey,” Dean says. “Do you want food?”

 

“I could eat,” Castiel admits. He doesn’t _need_ to eat, strictly speaking, but he’s grown fond of food.

 

There is no grand revelation, no declaration or bolt from above. There’s just a morning when he wakes up, and Dean makes breakfast for him, and they eat together while Sam sleeps in.

 

Dean shovels eggs into his mouth and asks Cas what his plans for the day were, and Cas suddenly knows.

 

The feelings he has for Dean are huge, overwhelming, and he’s struck dumb with the weight of it.

 

But Castiel has nowhere to go with the feelings, no way to tell Dean, because Dean has given him no encouragement. Castiel has no idea how to tell Dean how he feels. He has no outlet, no way to put them into words. He doesn’t think Dean truly reciprocates, or if he does, that he’ll ever act on it.

 

“You okay, man?” Dean asks, clapping him on the back. “You’re awfully quiet this morning.”

 

Castiel nods. “Yes, I’m fine.”

 

Dean’s hand tightens on his shoulder. “You sure?”

 

“Of course,” Castiel insists, because he can’t offer Dean the truth, not right now.

 

Maybe not ever.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

**Now**

 

Dean has heard Charlie make jokes about lesbians moving in together after the third date, although he’s not so crass as to make the same comments. Still, he can kind of understand, because he wants to see Cas every day, regardless of his work schedule. He doesn’t care if they aren’t able to do anything but eat breakfast together.

 

Call him crazy, but he’s gone on the guy.

 

They spend as much time as possible with each other, but their schedules don’t always align. They’re together as much as possible from Tuesday night until Dean goes to work on Friday evening, but it’s still not enough.

 

Cas seems to be want to be with Dean as much as Dean wants to be with him, but Dean still isn’t sure about broaching the subject of moving in together.

 

Or at least having Cas stay with him, even if he keeps his apartment.

 

Finally, a couple of weeks later, he bites the bullet. He broaches the subject on a Wednesday evening after he’s picked Cas up and they’re finishing dinner.

 

“So, hey, I was wondering if you wanted to stay with me a little more often?” Dean asks.

 

Cas looks at him blankly. “Yes, but we spend all of your time off together.”

 

Dean chuckles, used to Cas’ literalness by now. “I know, but if you were spending more time here, we could have breakfast together.”

 

Cas’ smile is like a slow sunrise. “You want that?”

 

“Uh, yeah, dude,” Dean replies immediately. “My schedule sucks when compared to your schedule, and I want to see more of you.”

 

Cas blushes. “I would like to see you more as well.”

 

Dean has been cooking more often with Cas around. They could go out, but Dean likes to cook, and it’s a lot more fun cooking for two, particularly since Cas seems to love everything he makes with an adorable enthusiasm. Tonight, he’d gone the easy route and made spaghetti with jarred sauce, and Cas acts like he made a gourmet meal.

 

“So, you know, you could stay here whenever you wanted,” Dean suggests. “If you wanted.”

 

Cas blinks. “You want me to stay here even when you’re not here?” he hazards.

 

“Yeah, man. It would make it easier to get breakfast together,” Dean replies. “But if you don’t want to get up early, I could go to bed a little later.”

 

“No,” Cas says immediately. “No, if you don’t mind me staying here while you’re working, I would like that, too.”

 

Dean grins. “Okay, great. I’ll get you a key today. It probably goes without saying, but make yourself at home.”

 

Cas nods, and then says, “There’s something I should tell you.”

 

Dean feels his heart stutter in his chest. “Okay?”

 

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Cas replies.

 

Dean gives him a look. “It’s not a girlfriend, is it?”

 

Cas frowns. “No, of course not. I’m loyal to you. I have a friend who wants to meet you.”

 

His tone is just a little pissy, and Dean laughs. “Yeah, my bad. I’m sorry. I just didn’t think you knew many people around here.”

 

“I ran into her,” Cas admits. “She’s psychic.”

 

Dean waits for the punch line, and when it’s not forthcoming, he says, “Seriously?”

 

“She said you would find that interesting, and she knew things about me she had no way of knowing otherwise,” Cas replies.

 

Dean really isn’t sure how to address that, so he says, “Yeah, of course. I’m cool with meeting anybody you want me to meet.”

 

Cas winces. “Did I do this wrong?”

 

“No!” Dean hastens to assure him. “No, man, you’re great. You—you’re perfect.”

 

Cas blushes. “So are you.”

 

With someone else, Dean would suspect them of blowing smoke up his ass, but Cas’ expression is sincere.

 

“Okay, so I’ll get another key, and you can stay here as much as you want,” Dean says. “Or all the time, it’s up to you, and I’m happy to meet your friend.”

 

Cas clears his throat. “You really want me here?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Dean assures him. “As often as you want to be here.”

 

He thinks Cas might be a little choked up, and Dean isn’t quite sure where that’s coming from, so he just pulls him close. He resolves to make sure that Cas knows he’s welcome at all times.

 

And Cas cuddles up to him, and Dean runs a hand through his hair and feels Cas relax against his chest, and he thinks that, for Cas, he could do anything.

 

~~~~~

 

Cas is a little nervous about Dean meeting Missouri. She’s issued a standing invitation for dinner, but Cas has been reluctant to take her up on the offer, not in these early days when he’s still getting used to living with Dean.

 

He likes being at Dean’s apartment, even when Dean isn’t there. Cas’ apartment is sterile, and there’s nothing in there that he’s chosen for himself. He’s not entirely sure that he knows _what_ he would have chosen, but there’s nothing about his place that makes him feel at home.

 

At Dean’s apartment, Cas is surrounded by Dean’s smell, and his things, and pictures, and he sleeps better than he has since Chuck granted his prayer.

 

And he’s seen Dean every morning when Dean comes home. Dean will crawl into bed next to him, and spoon up behind him, and then they might get breakfast together, or Dean will cook, or maybe just heat up leftovers, before Cas has to go to work.

 

Dean keeps saying, “I’m glad you’re here,” and Cas doesn’t know what to do with that, but he enjoys it.

 

Saturday is the best, though. Dean gets home from work, and crawls into bed with Cas. They sleep for a bit, and then they’re due to meet Charlie at the diner to talk about Cas’ persona for Moondoor. Cas still isn’t sure what that means, but he’s hoping he doesn’t mess things up for Dean.

 

They walk to the diner, with Dean occasionally tangling his fingers with Cas. It’s low key, and Cas understands the need to keep things quiet. He likes the way that Dean ushers him into the booth, with Cas on the inside and Dean on the outside. Dean puts a hand on his leg once they’re settled, and Cas can’t help but lean into him.

 

When Charlie shows up, she squeals when she sees them. “You guys are adorable!”

 

Cas raises his eyebrows. “We are?”

 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Come on, Charlie. Stop putting him on the spot.”

 

“I’m merely stating the obvious,” Charlie replies primly. “Also, I have a plan, because you two are so adorable, there’s really only one story that makes sense. I don’t think you’re up to pretending you’re not in love.”

 

“Probably not,” Cas replies as Dean sputters a bit. But then Dean slings an arm over his shoulders and presses his forehead against Cas’ temple. “What did you come up with?”

 

Charlie grins at him. “So, you’re putting yourself in my hands?”

 

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Cas admits. “So, if Dean is okay with it, I am as well.”

 

Charlie looks incredibly pleased. “Well, that puts you ahead of most of my loyal subjects, so I think we’re going to be fine. We’re going with Dean’s idea. The UST will be great, and people are already talking about fighter practice and how good Cas is. We just need to finalize the details with your name and costume.”

 

“Do I need to have a different name?” Cas asks.

 

Charlie frowns. “Well, pretty much everybody does.”

 

“He could go by Castiel,” Dean points out. “That’s his full name.”

 

Charlie nods. “Oh, that’s perfect. I like that. The costume will be pretty easy, if you can get the right quality materials. If not, we’ll have to go with another option.”

 

“I can handle that,” Dean says confidently. “I have a few people who owe me favors, so it shouldn’t be too bad.”

 

“Then I can count on you to take care of that?” Charlie asks. “Can he be ready in time for our next foray?”

 

Dean grimaces. “I have some concerns about things being ready. Maybe he could just attend the next one?”

 

“Well, I’m looking forward to dominating the other side even more completely, but yes, I can wait that long,” Charlie agrees. “We should probably introduce him to the rest of our crew, beyond the fighters.”

 

“We have a meeting coming up,” Dean points out. “We can do it then.”

 

Charlie sighs. “We should probably put it to a vote, although I know all the fighters will agree.”

 

“I thought this was a monarchy,” Cas says, a little confused.

 

Charlie grins at him. “It is, in fact, but people join Moondoor voluntarily, so everybody gets a voice, even if I ultimately decide to do something else. And since I say you’re in, you’re in, but it’s better if everybody thinks it’s a collective idea. Which they will, because Dean is clearly in love with you, and they all love him.”

 

“There might be a few people who are disappointed,” Dean points out.

 

Charlie snorts. “Too true, but you haven’t shown any interest in anybody currently participating, so they’ll just have to suck it up.”

 

Dean just laughs at that, and Cas relaxes. He doesn’t know much about this, but if Dean thinks it’s okay, he’ll trust that.

 

~~~~~

 

His mom has been bugging him to bring Cas by, but Dean keeps putting her off. He wants to introduce them, but he also just wants to enjoy the time that he has with Cas with the limited time he does have. Cas is around pretty much all the time now. He still has his own place, but Dean is pretty sure the only time he sees it is when Cas picks up his mail—which he does fairly inconsistently.

 

They haven’t seen Cas’ friend either, but Dean thinks it’s probably the same deal: Cas doesn’t want to give up any of their time together either.

 

It’s one of Dean’s nights off, and he’s procrastinating on his homework. His nights and days are as mixed up as they usually are this time of the week, but cuddling on the couch and watching a movie means that he doesn’t mind so much.

 

Dean’s phone rings, and he picks it up without looking at the screen. “This is Dean.”

 

“Dean, Bill here. We need your help.”

 

Dean closes his eyes, and then quickly glances at Cas, who wears a concerned expression. “What’s up?”

 

“We have an injury, but you know we can’t go to the hospital if we can help it,” Bill says.

 

“If I say you need the hospital, that’s where you’re going,” Dean warns. “Can you keep them stable until I get there?”

 

“Wouldn’t have called you if we couldn’t,” Bill assures him.

 

Dean sighs. “Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

When he hangs up, he looks at Cas, and has an internal debate on what to say. “What is it?” Cas asks, his gaze steady.

 

“There’s a friend of my mom’s who asks for help from time to time when there’s an injury they might have trouble explaining to a regular doctor,” Dean explains, opting for as much honesty as he feels he can risk. “You can stay here, or you can come with, but it might not be much fun.”

 

Cas’ expression doesn’t falter. “I’ll go with you.”

 

“Are you sure?” Dean asks. “I mean, it’s not always totally above board. They’re my mom’s friends, though, and they mean well, so—”

 

“Dean, I want to go,” Cas interrupts. “I want to meet all your friends, unsavory and not.”

 

Dean laughs. “Well, they’re not unsavory exactly, but I get what you mean. It might be a little weird.”

 

“I believe I can confidently say that I’ve seen weirder,” Cas replies.

 

Dean doesn’t know much about Cas’ previous life, and he’s known hunters since he was a teenager. It’s at least possible that it’s true, that Cas has experienced the supernatural, and instead of hunting, decided to become a librarian.

 

So, Dean nods. “Okay.”

 

Cas is dressed much as Dean is, in jeans, a t-shirt, boots, and a padded flannel shirt. Dean wears a leather jacket, and he eyes Cas’ outerwear. “Do you have a warmer coat?”

 

“Not yet,” Cas admits. “I’m not sure what to buy.”

 

“We’ll go shopping soon,” Dean promises. “I prefer leather, but down works, too. It can get pretty cold around here. If you think you’re going to be cold, you can borrow one of mine.”

 

“I’ll be fine this time,” Cas assures him.

 

“Well, at least the truck has heat,” Dean replies.

 

Normally, Dean would tell Cas that the driver picks the music, and he’s been too interested in conversation to do much more than put the radio on low. Now, he asks, “Are you okay with classic rock? I’m not sure what you like to listen to.”

 

Cas opens his mouth, then closes it again. “I’m sure whatever you want to listen to is fine.”

 

Dean frowns. “Dude, come on. You’re allowed to have an opinion.”

 

“You like classic rock,” Cas says after a moment. “You’ve had the radio on a classic rock station. I like classic rock. Unless you wanted to listen to something else, and then I might have an objection.”

 

Dean laughs. “Okay, fair enough. I didn’t know you were paying that close attention.”

 

“I pay attention to everything,” Cas replies earnestly.

 

“I know you do,” Dean says fondly. “AC/DC it is, then.”

 

They don’t talk much on the way to the Roadhouse, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable. Dean reaches over and finds Cas’ hand, warm and ready, and Cas entwines their fingers.

 

And it’s so good, just being with Cas. He’s nervous about Cas’ reaction to this part of his life, but there’s something about his presence that sets him at ease. There’s something about Cas that makes Dean feel complete.

 

“Are you okay?” Cas asks when they’re most of the way there.

 

Dean sighs. “Just nervous about what we’re going to find, and a little irritated that we’re losing a quiet evening at home together.”

 

“And nervous that I will somehow think less of you after what I see?” Cas asks.

 

There are times when Cas seems awkward, and almost like he doesn’t know how to human, but there are other times he seems to show a profound understanding of Dean and who he is.

 

“There is no chance of that,” Cas adds calmly.

 

“You haven’t even seen it yet,” Dean points out.

 

Cas smiles. “There is still no chance I will ever think less of you.”

 

Dean knows that his mom and brother love him. He knows Charlie loves him—and she’s the first person he’s felt truly loved him unconditionally—but Cas doesn’t seem to want anything from him. He just wants _Dean_ , and Dean doesn’t know what to do with that.

 

Not that he minds, but he thinks Cas will inevitably be disappointed.

 

“Well, here we are,” Dean says as he pulls up in front of the Roadhouse. “They’re not too welcoming to strangers, but you’re with me.”

 

“Am I?” Cas asks. “You don’t have to tell them I’m your boyfriend if you’re not ready.”

 

Dean sucks in a breath. “You know what? It’s going to come out, because we’re together, and they’ll be there for Thanksgiving. Better to get it out of the way now. If they don’t like it, they don’t have to show up.”

 

“If it will be too hard—”

 

“If it’s too hard for them to accept you’re my boyfriend, then they can stop calling whenever they need my help,” Dean replies. “That’s what will be too hard.”

 

He knows his tone sounds hard, but he feels protective of Cas, and he doesn’t really want their relationship questioned.

 

“I know how to fade into the background, Dean,” Cas says.

 

“You shouldn’t have to,” Dean counters. “Come on.”

 

Dean grabs his bag and leads the way into the Roadhouse, seeing a sight that’s become familiar. Ellen is polishing glasses behind the bar, an unhappy expression on her face. Jo is hanging around in the background, although she perks up when she sees Dean.

 

The injured party is a skinny kid with a mullet laid out on a table, groaning, his shirt stained with blood and a lot of it.

  
Dean nods to the other parties and heads directly for the patient. “What’s your name?”

 

“Ash,” the kid groans. “Name’s Ash.”

 

“Ash, I’m Dean,” he says. “I’m going to look you over, and if you need to go to the hospital, I’m going to insist on it, okay?”

 

Ash nods. “I get it. Ellen said to trust you.”

 

“Cas, come over and help me,” Dean says. “You have any problem with the sight of blood?”

 

Cas gives him a look, which clearly says he thinks it’s a stupid question. “No, Dean.”

 

“All right, give me a hand then,” Dean orders.

 

Cas is right there in seconds, and he follows Dean’s directions to the letter. Dean cuts through Ash’s t-shirt and pushes the fabric aside. “Fuck, man, what did you tangle with?”

 

“Werewolf,” Ash groans. “Took a swipe at me. Stupid.”

 

“It was stupid,” Ellen adds. “Going alone.”

 

“I said I was sorry!” Ash says.

 

“You haven’t said you aren’t going to do it again,” Ellen says acerbically. “Dean, thanks for coming.”

 

Dean smiles. “Anything for you, Ellen. Whatever you said to my mom really did the trick.”

 

“She doesn’t know how lucky she is,” Ellen says darkly.

 

Dean glances over and shares a sympathetic look with Jo, who probably feels the weight of her mother’s disapproval as much as Dean has in the past.

 

“Looks like you’re going to need some stitches,” Dean says. “Technically, I could do it, but you’re going to scar. It would be better if you went to the hospital and got expert help.”

 

Ash laughs. “Chicks dig scars.”

 

“Have you had your tetanus shot recently?” Dean asks.

 

“Two years ago,” Ash says confidently.

 

Dean sighs. “Then if you get an infection and anybody asks, a friend of a friend Army buddy stitched you up. My name doesn’t come into it.”

 

Ash nods. “Got it.”

 

“We’ll need gloves, distilled water to irrigate the wounds, and Cas, get with Ellen to find a sterile place to put what I need,” Dean orders.

 

The thing is, Cas seems to know what that is. He hasn’t blinked at the blood or the gore, and he advises Ellen on a sterile station, like he’s done it before. They put down clean paper towels and prep bottles of water.

 

Dean has been called out a few times now, and he has a fairly extensive set of supplies, including a suture kit. “Glove up, Cas,” Dean says. “I might need your help holding him still.”

 

Cas nods. Dean has sparred with him enough to know that Cas has a hidden strength to him.

 

“I’ll be fine,” Ash protests.

 

“This isn’t going to be fun,” Dean warns him. “If you haven’t started drinking yet, now would probably be the time.”

 

“He’s not of age,” Ellen says.

 

“Sucks to be you, dude,” Dean says. “Let that be a lesson to you.”

 

Cas puts one hand on Ash’s chest and another on his upper leg without being asked.

 

“You’re stronger than you look,” Ash says.

 

“Did I hurt you?” Cas asks.

 

Ash shakes his head. “No, it’s just a surprise.”

 

“You wouldn’t be the first to say as much,” Cas says dryly.

 

Dean grins. “I’m pretty sure he could kick my ass, Ash.”

 

He irrigates the wounds with bottled water until he’s sure that they’re clean, and he can’t see any debris. The bleeding has mostly stopped, so Dean has a pretty clear view of the wounds. “No bites, Ash?”

 

“No, I shot him before he could,” Ash replies.

 

“Well, you should be okay, then,” Dean replies. “At least once we get you stitched up.”

 

Dean hasn’t needed to give many people stitches, but he’s practiced since starting his work with the hunters. Stitches are pretty basic, but require a certain level of skill in order to minimize scarring. That’s not in his wheelhouse, but he can do a decent job of it.

 

Ash groans through it, but he doesn’t do much more than that, and Cas is able to keep him still enough to allow Dean to finish it up. He keeps the stitches as neat and even as possible, and uses steri-strips on the parts of the wounds that don’t require more.

 

All the while, Cas maintains a strong, steady presence and doesn’t flinch at any of it.

 

Dean has suspected as much, but this is confirmation: Cas has seen some shit.

 

A college librarian should _not_ be this steady, which means either Cas is even more remarkable than Dean thought, or it’s not his first rodeo.

 

Not that it matters either way. A lot of people get a taste of the life and go balls to the wall normal. Maybe that’s what happened for Cas.

 

Dean finishes Ash’s stitches, and then applies antibiotic ointment and tapes a gauze pad over the top. “Keep it dry. The stitches can come out in 7 to 10 days. If you can’t do it yourself, get someone to help you, or come down to Lawrence and I’ll take care of it. Any redness or swelling, you go to the ER, and you tell them what I told you: friend of a friend Army buddy helped you out because you didn’t have the money for a real doctor. You don’t know who it is.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Ash says. “Not the first time I’ve done this.”

 

“Take it easy,” Dean advises. “Drink plenty of fluids. You’ll need to replace the blood you lost.”

 

“Sure thing, doc,” Ash replies.

 

Dean sighs. “I’m not a doctor,” but he’s not surprised by the nickname, which he knows is widely used in the hunter community. Maybe he’s not a doctor, but he’s the closest thing to it for folks who need patching up without too many questions asked.

 

“You boys want a beer?” Ellen offers. “On the house.”

 

Dean wants to say no, because he wants to ask Cas where he got so familiar with bloodshed, but he figures it’s only right to be friendly. They’re going to be seeing Ellen and Bill and probably Jo for Thanksgiving after all.

 

He glances at Cas, to make sure he’s okay with it, and when he gets a shrug in response, Dean says, “Sure. Happy to take you up on that.”

 

“Introduce your friend, Dean,” Ellen says.

 

Dean can feel his face heat up. “I didn’t realize I hadn’t. Ellen, this is my boyfriend, Cas. Cas, Ellen Harvelle, her husband Bill, and their daughter Jo. The guy we were working on is Ash.”

 

Ellen gives Cas a considering look, and then she smiles. “Cas, you did a good job there. You work with Dean?”

 

Some unnamed emotion flickers across Cas’ face, and then he says, “No, I work at the university library.”

 

Surprise is writ clearly on Ellen’s face, but she doesn’t give voice to it. She pops the caps on a couple of bottles of Budweiser and hands them around. “How long have you two been dating?”

 

“A couple of months?” Dean guesses. “Not quite that, I guess. Cas?”

 

Cas smiles enigmatically. “It seems like forever and no time at all.”

 

If there’s any question about how he means that, his free hand on Dean’s knee says everything. Dean hears the door open and close, and when he glances over his shoulder, Jo is gone.

 

“She never quite got over her crush on you,” Ellen says. “Think this might finally do the trick.”

 

“Why would it?” Dean asks. “I’m the safe option.”

 

Ellen smiles. “Well, I can’t say what I was hoping for, but I’m glad you found a partner, Dean. From what I’ve seen, I’m impressed.”

 

“Much appreciated,” Dean replies. “Mom says we’ll be seeing you for Thanksgiving.”

 

“That’s the plan,” Ellen says as Bill rejoins them after helping Ash get to wherever he’s sleeping that night. “Is your brother going to be home?”

 

“Jury’s still out on that, as far as I know,” Dean replies. “He told Mom he might go home with his girlfriend.”

 

Ellen shakes her head. “I’m sure your mom loves that.”

 

“Sam is head over heels, so she’s not saying too much,” Dean replies. “You know Mom and Sam. He went to Stanford and has barely been home, and she’s not willing to risk him not coming back.”

 

“Your mom knows which son she can chase away, and which she can trust not to run,” Ellen points out. “She knows she can count on you.”

 

Dean isn’t always happy being the dependable one, but it’s part of his identity, and has been since his dad died. His mom had been careful to not put too much on him, but Dean still felt the responsibility.

 

“Well, whatever you said to her did wonders,” Dean says. “She backed way the hell off.”

 

“I just reminded her that she was lucky to have a kid who wanted to spend time with her, and who wasn’t a hunter,” Ellen replies.

 

“It’s not the end of the world if your kid is a hunter,” Dean points out. “Jo wants your approval as much as I want my mom’s.”

 

Ellen frowns at him, but then she sighs. “Your point is well taken, Dean. You’ve always been good with Jo.”

 

“She’s a good kid,” Dean replies. “She always has been.”

 

“She’s a good girl,” Bill says, speaking up for the first time. “At least she doesn’t take stupid chances.”

 

“There is that,” Ellen admits reluctantly.

 

Dean grins, grateful that Ellen is listening to them.

 

“What about you, Cas?” Ellen asks. “You were cool as a cucumber tonight.”

 

Cas looks like a deer cut in headlights for a moment, and then he says woodenly, “My last boyfriend was killed while possessed.”

 

Bill and Ellen’s expressions immediately go sympathetic and soft, and Ellen actually reaches out and touches Cas’ arm. “I’m very sorry.”

 

Dean thinks that explains a hell of a lot, and he puts a hand on the back of Cas’ neck, rubbing his thumb across the nape of Cas’ neck. “You okay?”

 

Cas nods tightly. “Yes.”

 

Dean pulls him in close and presses a kiss to his temple. “You did great, Cas. Thank you.”

 

Cas actually turns his head so that his face is buried in Dean’s neck, and Dean puts his arm around Cas’ shoulders and pulls him close.

 

He can hear Cas’ deep breath, and he lets go as soon as Cas starts to pull away.

 

“I think we’re going to head home,” Dean says. “Thanks, guys. See you at Thanksgiving.”

 

“I’ll talk to Jo before then,” Ellen promises. “Cas, it was very nice to meet you.”

 

“It was nice to meet you as well,” Cas says, his tone just a little wooden, but he maintains his composure.

 

They’re back on the road when Dean says, “I don’t want to press for more details than you want to give, but if you ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

 

“I know that,” Cas replies.

 

“I know it’s awkward, talking about an old flame with someone you’re currently dating,” Dean begins, “but I’m open to it.”

 

Cas sighs. “I don’t want to talk about it right now, but I hope I’ll be able to talk about it at some point.”

 

“I hope so, too,” Dean replies. “Because if he was with you, he must have been a pretty great guy.”

 

Cas gives him a strange look. “He was.”

 

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” Dean says.

 

“I’ll follow you anywhere,” Cas promises, and he’s pretty sure Cas means it.

 

~~~~~

 

Cas isn’t terribly surprised when Missouri shows up at the library a couple of days after the trip to Kansas, when Dean patched up the hunter. Cas has been unsettled since then, mostly because he saw glimpses of the Dean he’d known in the sure steadiness of the man who stitched up a wound.

 

Sometimes, Cas can forget where he’s come from and what he’s lost, but right now it’s all too obvious.

 

He misses the Dean he’d known, and his friendship with Sam. He misses Jack, and feeling like he imagines a father would feel. Cas is grateful for what he has, but sometimes he feels those losses more acutely than ever.

 

Maybe Dean has sensed it, because he’s been careful with Cas, and a little more attentive than usual—which is saying something because Dean is always attentive. He actually surprises Cas with breakfast in bed the next morning, as if to make up for the fact that he kept Cas up the night before.

 

Cas has never had breakfast in bed, and he’s not sure what to do with the tray. “Thank you?” he hazards.

 

“Come on, I know you like breakfast,” Dean cajoles.

 

Cas looks at the tray and sees French toast, coffee and fruit. “I do. This looks great.”

 

“Hasn’t anybody made you breakfast in bed before?” Dean asks, then winces. “Sorry.”

 

“No,” Cas replies. “I’ve never had breakfast in bed.”

 

“Good,” Dean replies. “Then I get to have a first with you. Another first with you. You mind if I share?”

 

“Of course not,” Cas replies, and Dean sprawls out next to him, helping himself to the French toast on Cas’ plate.

 

And when Dean offers to drive him to work, Cas takes him up on the offer. He probably shouldn’t, but he generally stays on campus for lunch, and Dean promises to pick him up after his shift.

 

Dean actually walks him in, and after Dean leaves, one of his coworkers says, “Whew. Your boyfriend is hot like burning.”

 

Cas has had trouble connecting with anybody, but he agrees, “He’s very attractive.”

 

Dana replies, “What’s your secret?”

 

Cas considers and discards several answers along the lines of fate and destiny, and says, “Take an interest in things they like. That helps.”

 

“That’s it?” Dana asks. “Seriously?”

 

Cas shrugs. “I don’t know. He made me breakfast this morning and brought it to me in bed.”

 

Dana’s eyebrows go straight up. “Seriously? He made you breakfast in bed? Does he have a brother? Or a clone?”

 

“He does have a brother, but he’s at Stanford,” Cas replies, uncertain of why she’s asking.

 

Dana lets out a whistle. “Older or younger?”

 

“Younger,” Cas replies. “Four years younger.”

 

“Too young for me, then,” Dana replies, who’s probably a good ten years older than Cas. “Besides, I’ve seen brothers. When you have one that sweet, he tends to suck up all the good genes.”

 

“I haven’t met his brother, so I wouldn’t know,” Cas replies, telling himself that it’s not exactly a lie. He hasn’t met this version of Sam.

 

“I hope you’re planning on keeping him,” Dana says.

 

“For as long as he’ll keep me,” Cas replies.

 

She tucks her dark blonde hair behind her ears, the short bob framing her face and her wide, blue eyes. “Is he your first boyfriend?”

 

Cas hesitates. “The first serious one, yes.”

 

“Good job on that front,” Dana replies. “What does he do?”

 

“He’s an EMT.”

 

Dana fans herself. “Hoo boy. I do love a man in uniform.”

 

“I’ve only seen him in uniform once,” Cas replies. “He’s attractive all the time.”

 

Dana laughs. “Well, you do have it bad.”

 

“I’ve never understood why people say that,” Cas admits. “Why is it bad to be in love?”

 

“Well, it’s not, if you’re in love with the right person,” Dana replies. “But I don’t know why people say it that way, to be honest. He sounds like a great guy, though.”

 

“I think he is,” Cas replies. “He did make me breakfast in bed, after all.”

 

“Which makes you the luckiest person in the world,” Dana says.

 

He manages a smile. “I am.”

 

Dana nods at the desk. “We have a customer.”

 

Cas turns around and sees Missouri standing there. “Hello, Missouri.”

 

“Well, look at you,” she says. “Happiness is a good look on you, Castiel.”

 

Cas realizes that he is happy, in spite of being unsettled, that both can be true at the same time. “Thank you.”

 

“I still want to have you over for dinner,” Missouri says. “I want to see Mary Winchester’s son up close. That boy is patching up hunters.”

 

“He is,” Cas replies. “They trust him.”

 

“He’s proven himself,” Missouri replies. “So, dinner?”

 

“What day?”

 

“How about Saturday?” she asks. “I’ll make it early so Dean can make it before his shift.”

 

Cas nods. “I’ll check with Dean.”

 

“You’ll be there,” Missouri says with assurance. “I know you will be.”

 

“Who was that?” Dana asks when Missouri leaves.

 

Cas shrugs. “A friend. She’s a psychic.”

 

Dana frowns. “Seriously?”

 

“She knows things I haven’t told Dean,” Cas replies. “So, yes. Seriously.”

 

Dana shakes her head. “I’m not down with that kind of thing. There are some things you just don’t need to know.”

 

Cas shrugs. “When you’ve seen what I have, a psychic doesn’t even register.”

 

Dana gives him a look. “What happened to you?”

 

“I lost everything,” Cas says simply.

 

Dana blinks. “Oh. I’m sorry. I thought—I thought you were just really reserved.”

 

Cas smiles. “I am, but there’s a little more to it than that.”

 

Dana touches his arm. “But you’re okay?”

 

“I’m okay,” Cas insists. “I have Dean.”

 

Dana laughs. “I’m glad, but you really do have it bad.”

 

Cas shrugs. “I’m okay with that.”

 

“If I had someone as hot as your boyfriend, I’d be okay with it, too,” Dana replies.

 

Cas doesn’t try to explain that it’s not Dean’s physical form that has attracted him, and that he knows Dean because he rebuilt him from the ground up. He’s just glad he has Dean now.

 

~~~~~

 

Dean is whistling when he pulls up in front of the library and Cas climbs into the passenger seat. “Hey there,” he says. “How was your day?”

 

“My friend invited us for dinner on Saturday before your shift,” Cas replies.

 

“The psychic one?” Dean asks.

 

Cas shrugs. “She says we’ll be there.”

 

“I have to admit, I’m a little curious,” Dean admits. “Sure, I’ll be there. Happy to.”

 

“Thank you,” Cas says.

 

“No problem,” Dean replies. “I haven’t eaten yet. You hungry?”

 

“I could eat,” Cas replies. “I haven’t eaten anything since lunch.”

 

“Burgers good?” Dean asks.

 

“Always,” Cas replies.

 

Dean has taken Cas to his favorite spot before, and they usually order the same thing. They’re developing a routine, and Dean loves that.

 

By the time they get back to Dean’s place, it’s late, and they don’t have time to do more than fall into bed together. They sprawl onto the bed and kiss lazily, and Cas clings a bit. Dean runs a hand up and down his spine.

 

Even knowing the little bit Dean does, he’s cognizant of Cas’ loss, and he doesn’t mind Cas needing a little more reassurance.

 

“Can I jack you off?” Dean asks.

 

“Yeah,” Cas says. “Please.”

 

Dean lines their dicks up, and he jacks them both off at the same time. Cas presses his face to the side of Dean’s neck, and they’re good. He comes shortly after Dean does, and Dean gets up to grab something to clean them up.

 

When he gets back to bed, Cas curls around him, and it’s good. It’s beyond good, and Dean just wants to keep him.

 

**Then**

 

Dean has been with fire and rescue for three years when he knows that he wants to go back to school to be a trauma nurse. He loves what he does, and he knows he makes a difference, but there are more politics involved than he knew about when he first started. There are issues with the union, with the position of the fire chief, with moving up.

 

Dean has some interest in the position of arson investigator, but the more he finds out about their methods, the more questions he has—not that Lawrence has a lot of complicated arson cases. Most of the time, it’s pretty obvious when someone starts a fire.

 

But there are just aspects of the job that aren’t exactly what Dean expected when he first decided to join fire and rescue. He hadn’t expected to feel a pang when he wheels a gurney into the ER and has to leave a patient behind without knowing the outcome. He hadn’t expected to feel the need to stop back by the hospital on his way home from a shift to see if someone survived after a five-car pile-up on I-70.

 

And after a shooting where a five-year-old catches a stray bullet from a teenager playing with his dad’s gun, Dean wheels his tiny patient into the ER, and is met by a woman he’s encountered in the past. She’s the head trauma nurse in the ER, and she marshals her forces like a general going into battle.

 

“Get me Dr. Meers,” she orders. “And call Dr. Carstairs in. She’ll want to be here. I need an OR prepped. I need a type and a cross-match. Get a bag of O-neg ready just in case. We’ll need to collect the clothing and the bullet for the police.”

 

She’s going to be with Macayla Sinclair until the end, Dean knows, whatever the ultimate outcome. She’s going to stick with her, to provide care, and he’s been around the ER enough to know who wields the power. The doctors are important, and they might kid themselves that they’re in control, but Dean knows who runs the show.

 

He wants to follow his patients, to know how things turn out, and he can’t do that while he remains with fire and rescue.

 

On his next day off, he starts to research what he needs to do to get his nursing degree.

 

**Now**

 

Dean feels strangely nervous at the idea of meeting Cas’ friend. As far as he knows, Cas doesn’t have a lot of friends. He’s mentioned a couple of coworkers, but doesn’t seem close to anybody, and he’s already admitted that he doesn’t have family. So, whoever this woman is, Dean figures she’s fairly important.

 

The house is a neat one-story in one of Lawrence’s working-class neighborhoods, small and well kept. Missouri Mosely is a stocky African-American woman who might be his mom’s age, but could be older or younger, too. She has her hair up in a scarf, and she greets them with a broad smile.

 

“I’m glad you boys could make it,” she says. “Dean, you look just like your mother.”

 

Dean blinks. “You know my mom?”

 

“Sure, baby,” Missouri replies, and somehow Dean doesn’t mind her calling him that. “She’s the one who scared all the monsters out of Kansas. She’s a one-woman cleanup crew, because she wanted to protect you and your brother. Everybody who knows anything knows who Mary Winchester is.”

 

Dean isn’t sure how he feels about that. It’s not like he didn’t know his mom was a badass, but this is a different perspective.

 

“Of course, she brags on you boys any chance she gets. Her boy, the fireman. Her boy, the future lawyer. She won’t stop talking about you.”

 

Dean gives an uncomfortable laugh. “That’s good. I didn’t realize.”

 

“Your momma has a hard time talking about some things to some folks,” Missouri says. “I know that, but I know what’s on her heart, too. And you’ve got yourself a good man here.”

 

Dean feels as though he’s on safer ground now. “I know I do. He’s the best.”

 

He thinks Cas might blush, but Missouri beams at them. “Good. Cas needs somebody who’s going to be there with him, and for him. I hear you’re decent in the kitchen. You can help me finish things up.”

 

“You’re not going to ask Cas?” Dean counters.

 

Missouri laughs. “I think Cas told you I’m psychic. He might be a dab hand with the sword, but I’m not going to trust him in my kitchen. You, though! You’re a gourmet cook.”

 

“I’ve got a long way to go before that’s true,” Dean protests, but he willingly follows her into the kitchen.

 

“Well, that might be true, but you can cook good meals, and that’s something to be proud of,” Missouri replies. “You’ve got a lot to be proud of, Dean. Your momma knows that, even if she has a hard time saying it.”

 

Dean feels mothered, and there’s no other word for it. Missouri chivvies him through prepping her green beans, with the bacon and onions.

 

Missouri knows home cooking, and Dean soaks up her knowledge. She gives him pointers on meatloaf, and hers is to die for.

 

“The secret is in the mixture,” Missouri tells him. “You have to get the right mixture. Meatloaf shouldn’t be boring.”

 

She includes Cas in her instructions, even if she doesn’t give him a job, and shares her recipe for garlic sour cream mashed potatoes. Everything is delicious, and he and Cas go for seconds on her urging.

 

“I can’t believe you know my mom,” Dean says as they slow down.

 

Missouri laughs. “Hard not to know your momma when you know about the supernatural. Her family’s been hunting for generations. The big scandal is how her boys aren’t in the life.”

 

Dean frowns, something occurring to him. “How did you meet Cas?”

 

“I ran into him, honey,” Missouri replies. “And his sadness called to me.”

 

Dean glances at Cas, who’s staring down at the table, as though fascinated by the fake wood grain. “It doesn’t hurt that he’s really easy on the eyes,” Dean jokes, trying to make Cas smile.

 

Mission accomplished, because he sees Cas’ lips quirk up, and Dean puts a hand on his knee and squeezes.

 

“You two are going to be fine,” Missouri declares. “Just keep an open mind, both of you.”

 

Dean wonders what Missouri knows that he doesn’t, but he figures Cas will tell him when the time is right.

 

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you everything,” Cas apologizes in a low voice.

 

Dean puts a hand on the back of Cas’ neck. “No, man. You tell me in your own time. I can be patient.”

 

Missouri beams at them. “That’s a good man.”

 

All in all, it’s a good evening, and they leave with a Tupperware full of leftovers and Missouri’s admonishments to take care of each other. To that end, Dean says, “Do you want to stay at my place tonight? You don’t have to.”

 

“No, I’d like that,” Cas says immediately. “I’d like to see you in the morning.”

 

“Yeah? Okay,” Dean replies. “I’d like that, too.”

 

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” Cas says, a little shyly.

 

Dean laughs. “Are you kidding me? Missouri is great. I can’t wait to tell my mom I met her. Speaking of which, do you want to meet my mom? Before Thanksgiving, I mean.”

 

“Do you want me to meet her?” Cas asks.

 

Dean smiles. “Sure. I mean, I think she’s going to love you, but I enjoy having you to myself, too.”

 

“I think I’d like to meet your mom,” Cas offers. “I’d like to meet your family.”

 

Dean smiles. “I’ll talk to Mom about it. Maybe my next evening off.”

 

“Of course,” Cas replies. “You know my schedule.”

 

Dean squeezes his hand. “I have your key ready, so you can come and go as you please.”

 

“More than okay,” Cas replies. “I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge.”

 

Dean leans in to kiss him as he pulls up in front of his apartment building. “Love you.”

 

The words slip out before he can think better of it, but the slow-dawning pleasure on Cas’ face, and the sweet smile he receives in return is recompense enough. “I love you, too,” Cas replies.

 

**Then**

 

Cas has a hard time finding a quiet spot in the bunker these days. It’s not a bad thing necessarily, but there are moments when he wants some time and space to think.

 

Right now, though, the kitchen is deserted, and Cas grabs a beer from the fridge, popping the top off and taking a long pull. He’s not sure why he’s feeling out of sorts, but he is.

 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says, entering the kitchen. “How’s it going?”

 

“It’s going,” Cas replies, which is something that he’s heard Dean and Sam say before.

 

Dean claps him on the shoulder. “Looks like you have the right idea.” He pulls a beer out of the fridge. “I have to say, man, it’s been good to have you around.”

 

Cas frowns. “I’ve been around before.”

 

“Yeah, sure, but you usually have another priority, another mission,” Dean points out. “But you’ve been here pretty much exclusively.”

 

He’s still not quite sure what Dean means. “Yes, but where else would I be?”

 

Dean laughs. “That’s not my point, Cas. I’m saying that it’s really good to have you here more. It’s nice to see you every day.”

 

“Oh,” Cas replies, something inside him loosening. “It’s nice to see you more frequently as well.”

 

“I know it gets pretty crowded around here,” Dean says. “But maybe we could go into town and get a drink sometime. Maybe a burger.”

 

“Just us?” Cas asks, wanting to clarify.

 

Dean shrugs. “Yeah, just us. Unless you don’t want to.”

 

“No, I do,” Cas replies immediately. “I want to. I’d like that.”

 

Dean smiles. “Yeah? Okay, we’ll go soon.”

 

He says yes to Michael a few days later. Cas can’t help but wonder what might have happened if he hadn’t.

 

**Now**

 

Castiel glances nervously in the mirror. Dean said his mom wasn’t very formal and wouldn’t care what he wore, but all he really has are jeans and chinos, t-shirts and polo shirts. He thinks that God probably has a sense of humor, because Cas would be much more comfortable in business wear for this meeting.

 

And maybe a trench coat. It’s odd to think that his likely doesn’t exist—yet—in this world.

 

Dean is picking him up, since Cas said he wanted to get something to wear, and Dean shrugged, saying, “Sure, but don’t sweat it, dude.”

 

Finally, Cas sighs and admits defeat. He has no idea what to wear to meet Dean’s mother when he’s already met her before, and yet has no idea what sort of person she is here.

 

He leaves his chinos on but exchanges the green polo for a blue one, remembering a conversation between Dean and Charlie, where Charlie insisted that whatever Cas wore as part of his costume, it needed to be blue.

 

Cas might have missed it if he wasn’t paying attention, but Dean licked his lips. So, blue shirt it is.

 

His cell phone buzzes, and Cas answers. “Hello?”

 

“It’s me,” Dean replies. “You ready to go?”

 

“Be right down.” Cas snaps the flip phone closed and grabs his bag with extra clothes. Dean is waiting out front, and Cas stows his bag behind the passenger seat.

 

“Lookin’ good,” Dean says, leaning over for a casual kiss, his easy manner something that Cas isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to.

 

“You, too,” Cas replies, which is true. Dean is wearing a nicer pair of jeans and a green Henley that not only brings out his eyes, but emphasizes the broadness of his chest and musculature of his arms.

 

Dean grins. “Well, we’re meeting my mom at the BBQ joint she likes. It’s pretty good, as long as you like meat.”

 

“I do,” Cas replies.

 

“I knew that about you,” Dean says, and then he pauses. “I just want to be sure we’re clear on something. My mom found out about me being bi not that long ago, and she said some things that were kind of painful. I don’t think that’s going to happen, but if you get uncomfortable, say the word and we’re gone.”

 

Cas appreciates that, but he says, “She’s your mother, Dean. I’ll be fine.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes affectionately. “I mean that you’re my priority, Cas. All the way.”

 

Cas doesn’t think he’s ever been Dean’s priority; he’s always known that Sam would come first, or that Mary would. Cas never thought Dean would aim those words at him and mean them. “Thank you,” he replies, for lack of anything better to say.

 

Dean pats him on the knee. “Just give me a signal if you’re uncomfortable.”

 

The restaurant parking lot is crowded, but Dean finds a space next to a very familiar car. “Is that the—” Cas catches himself. “Is that an Impala?”

 

“What?” Dean asks, clearly not catching Cas’ stumble. “Oh, that? Yeah, it’s my mom’s car. She’s had it since my dad passed. It was his before.”

 

“You don’t like it?” Cas asks carefully.

 

Dean shrugs carelessly. “I mean, it’s a cool car, but it’s my mom’s. It always has been, and it probably will be until the day she dies. And then Sam will probably claim it.”

 

Cas has no idea how to ask the question, but he asks, “You don’t have an attachment to your father?”

 

“Sure,” Dean says. “He was a great dad. I have a few really good memories of him. But I honor his memory by what I do, not what I hang on to.”

 

“Mom said she’d hold down a table for us,” Dean says as they walk inside. They don’t hold hands, but Dean puts his hand on Cas’ lower back to guide him through the crowded restaurant.

 

Cas doesn’t question how Dean knows where they’re going, trusting in Dean’s guidance. 

 

The woman who rises from the table as they approach is familiar, of course. Cas has met another Mary in another life, but he would have known who she was anyway, because Dean really bears a striking resemblance to her.

 

“Hi, Dean,” she says, pulling him into a hug. “How are you?”

 

“Fine,” Dean replies easily. “Mom, this is Cas. Cas, my mom, Mary.”

 

Cas manages a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

 

“Same here,” Mary replies, and if her smile is a little stiff, Cas isn’t going to call her on it. “Dean’s been telling me a lot about you.”

 

“Some of it good, I hope,” Cas replies.

 

“ _All_ of it good,” Dean inserts. “Of course.”

 

They sit down, and Cas wonders if everyone else feels as awkward as he does as he focuses on the menu.

 

After a few moments of tense silence, Cas ventures, “What would you recommend?”

 

“Oh, everything is good here,” Mary replies.

 

As a conversational gambit, it’s less than successful.

 

“I’m going to have the pulled pork,” Dean says. “That’s always good.”

 

Cas puts the menu down, content to follow Dean’s lead on this, as in most other things.

 

Mary also sets her menu aside. “So, what is it that you do, Cas?”

 

Her tone is mild, but Cas tenses anyway. He’s certain that one question will lead to another, and then another, and while he has the backstory Chuck gave him, he also isn’t sure whether it will stand up to the kind of scrutiny Mary Winchester might bring to bear.

 

“I work for the university library in circulation,” Cas replies.

 

“Do you need a degree for that?” Mary asks.

 

Dean’s eyes narrow. “Mom.”

 

“I’m just curious,” Mary replies.

 

“I have a degree in library science,” Cas replies. “Most university libraries do require advanced degrees.”

 

“Well, I’ll be,” Mary says, and now she really does just sound interested. “I had no idea there was such a thing.”

 

Cas shrugs. “There’s a science to creating and collating an adequate collection of books to serve a wide variety of interests, particularly on a university campus.”

 

“Did you always want to be a librarian?” Mary asks.

 

“I always liked books, and it seemed as good a career choice as any,” Cas replies, because he hadn’t really had a choice.

 

“And what about your family?” Mary asks. “Do they live in the area?”

 

Cas stiffens. “I no longer have a family.”

 

Mary frowns. “Really? What happened to them?”

 

“Mom!” Dean says sharply. “That’s enough of the third degree. You don’t need Cas’ entire life story right now.”

 

Mary winces. “I’m sorry, Cas, that was insensitive of me. Other than my boys, I don’t care to talk about my relatives either.”

 

Cas nods. “Of course. It’s a natural question.”

 

“Dean tells me that you’re joining him in that game he plays with Charlie,” Mary says.

 

Dean winces again, this time probably because Mary classified Moondoor as a “game,” which made it sound like a rather juvenile pursuit.

 

Cas simply says, “I’m enjoying it. I really don’t have many hobbies, and I like Dean’s friends.”

 

“Well, that’s good then,” Mary replies, and the conversation grinds to a halt once again, although their waiter shows up shortly, providing a necessary distraction.

 

With their orders in, Mary turns her attention to Dean. “What about you? How’s work?”

 

“It’s good,” Dean replies. “What about you?”

 

Much of their conversation doesn’t involve Cas, but that doesn’t really bother him. Dean makes an effort to engage him, but Cas can tell that Mary is somewhat at a loss. Her usual conversation with a significant other—such as Cas’ family, and maybe his romantic background—have clearly been closed to her, and she’s not sure what to say.

 

That isn’t much of a change from his previous interactions with Mary, although for different reasons. And it’s not that much different from her interactions with Dean, since the conversation focuses on his work and school, and goes no further than that.

 

At one point, Dean asks, “How’s Sammy? Have you talked to him lately?”

 

“Oh, he’s doing great!” Mary says enthusiastically. “He’s pretty sure he’s going to make the Dean’s list this semester again.”

 

“Is he still dating that girl?” Dean asks, taking a large bite of his sandwich.

 

“Jessica?” Mary asks. “It sounds like they’re still going strong. I think he was hoping to visit her family over Thanksgiving, but he said there wasn’t time, and he wanted to see us, too, since he didn’t get back here over the summer.”

 

“That’s great,” Dean replies. “It will be good to see him again.”

 

“Are you going to ask Charlie over for Thanksgiving?” Mary asks. “Please do. Sam could probably use a friend there, since the Harvelles and Cas will be joining us this year.”

 

Cas glances at Dean, his eyebrow raised, wondering if she really is this oblivious to not know that Charlie is more Dean’s friend than Sam’s at this point.

 

Dean hitches a shoulder, and Cas barely manages to keep from rolling his eyes or making a comment.

 

“You are coming to Thanksgiving?” Mary asks Cas, the first words she’s spoken directly to him since Dean shut down her questions about his family.

 

“Dean has invited me,” Cas replies. “If I’m welcome, I’d love to come.”

 

“Of course, you’re welcome,” she says warmly. “I think you’re the first—” She clearly stumbles over the right word to use to describe Cas.

 

“Partner,” Dean supplies smoothly. “Cas is the first partner I’ve brought home.”

 

Mary blinks. “Oh, I didn’t realize it was that serious.”

 

Cas can feel Dean tense, and she quickly adds, “But that’s great. When you meet the right person, sometimes you just know. I can’t say it was exactly love at first sight with Dean’s father, but it was close.”

 

Dean relaxes at that, and Cas realizes that she’s just compared their relationship to her marriage—to someone she clearly still mourns if the Impala is anything to go by.

 

The evening ends on something of a high note, but Cas breathes a sigh of relief when he climbs into Dean’s truck and watches the Impala drive away.

 

“I know, right?” Dean asks. “I love her, and she’s my mom, but she can be a little much to take at times.”

 

Cas clears his throat. “Still, she did compare our relationship to hers.”

 

Dean frowns, apparently not getting it at first, and then his eyes widen. “Oh, shit. Yeah, I didn’t even catch that. That’s—” He stops and shakes his head. “You know what? That evening was a total win. How about we go back to my place and celebrate?”

 

“I think I would like that very much.”

 

~~~~~

 

It’s usually too difficult to get everybody together for LARPing in between Thanksgiving and the New Year, so they wrap things up on Tuesday before Thanksgiving with a potluck. Dean makes sure he brings enough to cover him and Cas, and they head over right after Dean picks him up from work.

 

“You’re not dressed up,” Cas remarks.

 

Dean shrugs. “This is just for us to get together before the holidays. A lot of people have families, or they head out on vacation. But some folks don’t have family at all, and others don’t have a family they’ll claim, or who will claim them. Charlie and I check around, see who’s doing okay and who isn’t, and then we do what we can to make sure their lives don’t totally suck this time of year.”

 

He pauses and looks at Cas. “I didn’t ask how you were doing.”

 

“I’m well,” Cas replies.

 

Dean frowns. “I know this time of year can be hard, so if that changes, just let me know.”

 

“It’s not that,” Cas says quickly. “It’s just—I’ve never really celebrated the holidays, and so I never knew what I was missing. To be here with you means a lot.”

 

Dean smiles. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

 

Cas has certainly relaxed a lot in the last few weeks, engaging in an easy affection that feels as though they’ve known each other for years, rather than months. He smiles more, touches Dean more, laughs more. Dean feels as though he’s getting to know the real Cas day by day, and he likes him—loves him—more all the time.

 

Mark has managed to sweet talk someone into letting them rent out the fire hall for cheap, and everybody from Moondoor who could make it shows up with covered dishes. Last year, Dean decided to take it in hand so they didn’t wind up with five casseroles and ten bags of chips, so there was a sign-up sheet that went around at the last meeting. This year, there seems to be a wide range of offerings, from the homemade to the store-bought, from tater tot casserole to a fancy salad.

 

They set up buffet style, and everybody fills a plate. Dean makes sure he gets a seat next to Charlie, with Cas on the other side of him, and he grins at Sarah. “Nice to see you here.”

 

“Charlie said I should come to see how dead normal everybody actually is,” Sarah replies, deadpan. “So far, I’m not buying it.”

 

Dean looks around and laughs. “Yeah, you might have a point, but Mark is normal.”

 

Mark sits down at their table. “I am completely normal—for a total nerd, and I will own that.”

 

“We’re well-rounded,” Dean counters. “No matter what anybody might say.”

 

“You’re not very round,” Cas observes. “In fact, you’re not round at all.”

 

The way Cas says it, Dean isn’t sure if he’s making a joke or not, but the rest of the table roars. “Is that your subtle way of saying you think Dean is hot?” Sarah teases.

 

Cas’ lips quirk ever-so-slightly. “Was that subtle? I was going for obvious.”

 

Dean has no idea where Cas dug up his sense of humor, but he’s grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. “You’re going to give me a big head, Cas.”

 

And Cas raises his eyebrows and glances down—which _is_ subtle, thank god, because Dean feels his face heat.

 

“I can’t wait to introduce you to the rest of the Moondoor world,” Charlie says, still giggling. “Because we are going to _slay_ next year.”

 

“That is the general idea,” Cas agrees.

 

Mark wipes his eyes. “Seriously, Dean, this is going to be the talk of the society.”

 

“Wait until you see his costume,” Charlie says smugly. “I’ve been working on it, and it should be done by the next big meeting. Once Dean gets the armor, he’s going to look great.”

 

Cas tenses slightly, and Dean knows that he’s not entirely sold on the whole thing, but he’s willing to play along. Hopefully, he really enjoys it once he gets into character.

 

Not that it’s going to be too hard, since he’s playing a nobleman who falls in love with the general.

 

“Go easy on him, guys, it’s his first rodeo, and he’s never done anything like this before,” Dean says, resting a hand on Cas’ knee.

 

Charlie glances around, and sees that most people have been through the line and are eating, and she gets to her feet. “Attention! Can I have everyone’s attention?”

 

There’s a din, and only the closest table seems to hear her, so Dean lets out a piercing whistle, and the place falls silent.

 

“Thank you for being here, everybody,” Charlie calls out. “And thanks to the friends and family present who put up with our hobby.”

 

“Obsession,” Dean coughs next to her, causing Mark to snort, and Charlie to give him a quelling look.

 

“We had a great year, and we’ve brought in some new participants, making our chapter one of the largest in the state, if not the country,” she continues to whoops and cheers. “As you all know, we’ll have a twist in our story next year. My general has fallen completely head over heels for someone who has been a great sport about participating, but is also a fierce fighter. We’re going to be unstoppable next year.”

 

There are more cheers. “So, please make Cas feel welcome, and for those of you who are planning on staying in town for the holidays, talk to me or Dean. We’ll be here, too, and we’re thinking about a get together.”

 

She sits down to applause and cries of, “Long live the queen!”

 

“You’re still coming for Thanksgiving, right?” Dean asks her.

 

Charlie snorts. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 

“What’s happening this Thanksgiving?” Sarah asks.

 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Well, Cas will be there, for one, and my brother Sam is getting into town tomorrow. Plus, some friends of the family are going to be there, and there are sure to be fireworks. What about you? You could come, too, see what the fuss is all about.”

 

Sarah smiles and shakes her head. “No, but thank you for the invitation. My parents decided to come to me this year, since my little sister is here at the university finishing up her biology degree. She claims she can’t take the time to travel because she’s studying for her MCAT.”

 

“Mark?” Dean prompts.

 

“I’m on duty Thursday and Friday,” Mark replies. “I’ll do the family thing on Sunday. I took a shift from one of the guys who just had a kid.”

 

Sarah frowns. “Wait, does your brother know you’re bringing your boyfriend to Thanksgiving dinner?”

 

“Nope,” Dean replies. “He doesn’t even know I have a boyfriend.”

 

Sarah smirks. “And how many of the others there will have met Cas already?”

 

“All of them,” Dean says cheerfully. “For once in my life, Sam will actually be the last to know.”

 

“That’s kind of mean,” Mark points out.

 

Charlie jumps in before Cas can, quick to defend his honor. “It _would_ be if Sam actually picked up the phone to call Dean once in a while, or even sent an email. How long has it been?”

 

“A couple of months at least,” Dean admits. “And I only talked to him because he called during one of my regular dinners with Mom.”

 

“I guess that’s fair then,” Mark replies. “I mean, if you’re the last to know because you’re the last to ask, that’s on your head.”

 

“That’s pretty much how I feel,” Dean says. “It should be interesting.”

 

Cas squeezes his hand under the table, and Dean squeezes back, even as Charlie says, “I’ll be there for you.”

 

Dean laughs. “Funny, I’m pretty sure Mom and Sam think you’ll be there for _him_.”

 

“ _He_ isn’t my favorite general,” Charlie replies. “And Sam didn’t just hand me what’s going to be the talk of Moondoor for _years_ to come.”

 

“Pretty sure Sam wouldn’t LARP if you paid him,” Dean says.

 

Sarah frowns. “I thought you said he was a big nerd.”

 

“A big, _serious_ nerd who would think it’s silly and a waste of time,” Dean corrects her. “His loss, because you guys are like family.”

 

Charlie lays her head on Dean’s shoulder. “Right back atcha.”

 

~~~~~

 

Cas has no idea what to expect for Thanksgiving. As far as he knows, he’s never celebrated that particular holiday before. But Dean loads them up with supplies on Thursday morning, and they head to his mother’s residence.

 

It’s a neat two-story house on a quiet street, with a well-manicured lawn and rose bushes in the front. Cas carries in a couple of bags of groceries, while Dean deals with the stuffing and the turkey that he started preparing the night before.

 

Mary meets them at the front door. “Sam’s still asleep,” she says. “Hi, Cas. How are you?”

 

The question sounds sincere, and he replies. “Well, thanks.”

 

“Thank you for helping out,” Mary replies. “Dean, do you need me?”

 

Dean smirks at her. “What do you think?”

 

“I’ll stay out of your way,” Mary replies. “I didn’t say anything about Cas being here.”

 

Dean laughs. “Well, that will be an interesting surprise, won’t it?”

 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Mary says, kissing his cheek, and she smiles at Cas. “I’m going to rake leaves.”

 

Cas lifts an eyebrow when he looks at Dean, who shrugs. “Well, that wasn’t too bad. I don’t suppose you know anything about roasting a turkey.”

 

“I can take orders,” Cas offers.

 

“That will work,” Dean says. “Same thing I said before applies. If Sam gets out of line, you’re my first priority. If you get uncomfortable, tell me.”

 

Cas gives him a look. “I have my general and my queen here. Why should I be uncomfortable?”

 

“Fuuuuuck,” Dean mutters. “Seriously? I want to fuck you right now.”

 

Cas smirks. “Hang on to that thought.”

 

Dean sighs. “Come on. Cooking will distract me.”

 

He has Cas hold the turkey while he spoons the prepared stuffing into the cavity, and then Dean trusses it quickly and rubs butter over the skin. “You have to chill the stuffing, so it’s the same temperature as the turkey, and then fill it,” Dean explains. “Seriously, have you had stuffing out of the turkey?”

 

Cas shakes his head, because he’s pretty sure he’s never had stuffing at all.

 

“It’s the best,” Dean says. “One of my buddies at the station made turkey and stuffing for everybody who was working Thanksgiving one year, and that converted me. Mom always made Stovetop before that, which has its place, but not on Thanksgiving.”

 

It’s one of those references Cas feels like he should know but doesn’t, and he doesn’t want to admit to it. “I’ll take your word for it.”

 

Dean frowns. “You haven’t had stuffing before.”

 

“No,” Cas says after a pause. “I’ve never really celebrated Thanksgiving.”

 

Dean grins broadly. “Well, then you don’t have anything to compare it to. Man, I had a significant other whose grandma was basically Martha Stewart. Anything I made was basically half-assed.”

 

“You seem to be working really hard at it,” Cas says.

 

Dean laughs. “Yeah, well, Mom wasn’t really that into cooking, but it’s not like she got a lot of training from her family. Nothing against her, but it’s nice not to be compared to someone else.”

 

“There is no one to compare you to,” Cas replies.

 

Dean pecks him on the lips. “Thank you.”

 

The turkey goes into the oven, and then they start peeling potatoes. “We can put the potatoes in the crockpot, which will keep them warm, and it won’t hurt them any. Charlie is bringing the cranberry sauce, and we’re doing the green bean casserole and salad.”

 

“And these are all important?” Cas asks.

 

“Well, I refuse to make the whole thing with the sweet potatoes and marshmallows,” Dean replies. “Which some would say is sacrilege, but I really hate marshmallows.”

 

Cas knows what marshmallows are, but he has no idea what they have to do with sweet potatoes. “Since you’re cooking, I think you get to decide.”

 

“You can tell Sam that, because he’s always the one who complains,” Dean replies.

 

“You could tell him that I hate marshmallows,” Cas suggests.

 

Dean laughs. “Do you?”

 

“I have no opinion on the matter.”

 

“Then let’s not tempt fate,” Dean replies. “Sam’s been bitching at me since he could talk. Nothing much has changed.”

 

“If someone is cooking for you, you shouldn’t complain about what they’re making,” Cas says primly.

 

Dean smiles. “Yeah, well, I’d love for you to say that to Sam if he complains.”

 

Cas knows Sam—or a _version_ of Sam—and so he feels less restraint than he might have under other circumstances. “Sure,”Cas replies. “I have no problem with that.”

 

The potatoes are peeled and Dean is demonstrating the appropriate construction of a green bean casserole when Sam stumbles into the kitchen.

 

Dean glances at Cas and raises an eyebrow, silently indicating that this is his brother. Sam grunts and pours a cup of coffee, but he’s probably halfway through a cup before he notices there’s company, and then he does a double take at the sight of Dean.

 

“Uh, what’s with the beard?” Sam asks.

 

“Good to see you, too, bro,” Dean replies. “I wanted to try something new.”

 

Sam gives him a dubious look. “It’s definitely new. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

 

“Maybe if you were home more often, that wouldn’t have been a problem,” Dean suggests.

 

Sam glares. “I’m busy. And I have a girlfriend.”

 

“Good for you,” Dean replies. “I have a boyfriend. Sam, meet Cas. Cas, this is my brother, Sam.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Cas says pleasantly.

 

Sam snorts. “Come on, Dean. Try again. Mom said you were bringing a friend because he didn’t have any family. You don’t have to try to upstage me.”

 

Dean frowns, like he’s not quite sure how to take that. Cas isn’t sure what Sam means either. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“I have a girlfriend, and I’m going to Stanford, and you’re stuck in Lawrence,” Sam replies with the sort of exaggerated patience you would use with someone who’s particularly dense.

 

Dean’s eyebrows go up incredulously. “I never wanted to leave Lawrence; that was always you. And, in fact, Cas _is_ my boyfriend. We’ve been dating a few months now.”

 

Sam shakes his head. “I know you’re not gay. You dated plenty of girls in high school.”

 

Dean shrugs. “I never said I was.I’m bi. You’re living in California. You should know what that means.”

 

Sam is looking between them, like he’s not quite sure what to do, but he’s clearly having a hard time processing this information. “But—you’re not gay. You can’t have a boyfriend.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes. “I’ve been bi for a long time, Sam. Frankly, Charlie knew back in high school.”

 

Sam snorts. “Seriously? Are you sure this isn’t just a phase? Like, maybe you can’t get a girl to date you so you settle for a guy?”

 

“No.” Dean’s voice is flat. “I’m bi, Cas is my boyfriend, and you didn’t know because you never bothered to ask. You can feel your feels, just don’t do it around us.”

 

The words seem harsh, but Cas understands what Dean is saying. Dean’s coming out to his mom hadn’t been easy, and he’s uninterested in making it easy on Sam.

 

“Geez, you don’t have to jump down my throat,” Sam mutters. “It’s not my fault you’re so touchy over dating a guy.”

 

Cas stares at him, trying to reconcile this version of Sam with the one he knew. “I’m not touchy,” Dean replies, sounding tired now. “I just don’t want to have an after school special moment. I’m bi, I have a boyfriend, it’s not a big deal.”

 

Sam shrugs. “Whatever. Do you need help?”

 

Cas is rather hoping that Dean says no, which he does. “No, we’ve got it, and unless you’ve learned how to cook while you were in college, you’ve never been that great in the kitchen.”

 

Sam doesn’t even try to argue with him, just flips him off and takes his cup of coffee with him.

 

“So, that was my brother,” Dean says with a shrug. “He’s a lot more pleasant after he’s had his coffee, and has been since he was a teenager, only back then it was soda.”

 

Cas has no idea what to say to that. “He seems—like he might be a little bit of a jerk.”

 

He says it apologetically, afraid that Dean will be upset, as he might have been in that other world, but Dean just laughs. “Yeah, well, I keep telling myself that he’ll grow out of it.”

 

“I think he will,” Cas says. “He’s your brother, and he’s young.”

 

Cas hadn’t realized how young until this morning. Dean is younger than the version Cas knew in that other life, but other than the lightness of him, it’s not a lack of maturity, but a lack of pain.

 

Sam is immature, untested and untried. In this world, Cas believes it will take longer for him to gain the wisdom he demonstrated when Cas knew him last.

 

Dean gives him a crooked smile. “Thanks for being here today.”

 

Cas frowns. “Where else would I be?”

 

“I don’t know,” Dean admits. “But if Sam waltzed through the door talking about his perfect girlfriend, I’d probably be fuming if you weren’t—well, if you weren’t my boyfriend.”

 

Cas knows what Dean means—he knows Dean, even this version of Dean—well enough by now, but he says, “You save lives. You’re going to school to save even more lives. You’re a hero.”

 

Dean actually blushes. “You’re really good for my ego.”

 

Cas kisses him. “You’re good for me.”

 

Dean brushes his cheekbone with his thumb. “God, you’re sweet. I love you.”

 

Cas can’t help but pull Dean close. “Same.”

 

~~~~~

 

It’s different having Cas around while he’s making Thanksgiving dinner. Cas is an able assistant, taking direction without argument or complaint. He’s also the first person who has responded to Sam like there’s something wrong with _Sam_ and not Dean. Typically, people talk about how cute Sam is, how sincere he is, how smart.

 

Then again, Dean has also never dated a guy before, so maybe that’s the difference.

 

But Cas is there, and he pitches in, and he thinks Sam is kind of a jerk, and he loves Dean, and that’s enough. It doesn’t matter what Sam thinks.

 

Charlie shows up around 11 with the cranberry sauce, and she keeps them company in the kitchen. Dean pulls out a veggie tray from the fridge, which his mom picked up from the grocery store, and puts that out for folks to snack on. He’s expecting the Harvelles shortly anyway.

 

“So, definitely blue for your costume,” Charlie says.

 

Dean crunches down on a fried onion. “The chainmail and the sword should be ready right after New Year’s, so that’s coming right along.”

 

Cas winces. “I don’t think I can afford that.”

 

Charlie waves away the objection. “Come on, this is _me_.  This is going to do amazing things for our LARP-ing group. And Dean called in a favor.”

 

“Thank you,” Cas says.

 

Charlie snorts. “Are you kidding? I’ve seen the way you fight. Totally worth it.”

 

“She’s not wrong,” Dean says. “Our next big engagement is mid-January. We need you ready by then.”

 

“I’m ready,” Cas says.

 

“You are, but your costume isn’t,” Charlie counters. “But it will be, and that’s the important thing. Where’s Sam?”

 

“He came down for coffee,” Dean hedges.

 

Cas shakes his head. “He was a jerk.”

 

Charlie raises her eyebrows. “Ooookay. Wow. Dean, your boyfriend is awesome, and you should never let him go.”

 

Cas clearly doesn’t know what Charlie means. “Because I think Sam was a jerk?”

 

“Because no one else Dean has dated has ever thought of Sam as more than the cute, smart, younger brother,” Charlie replies.

 

Cas appears confused. “He’s younger, but why would it matter that he’s cute?”

 

Charlie laughs. “You’d be surprised. It shouldn’t matter, but it does. Never change, Cas.”

 

“I don’t plan on it,” Cas replies.

 

“Seriously, he’s a priceless treasure and you are never allowed to break up,” Charlie says.

 

“Not planning on it,” Dean replies. “Leave some carrots. The Harvelles should be here soon, and they like vegetables.”

 

Charlie shrugs and turns her attention to the broccoli.

 

They continue talking about Cas’ costume and LARP-ing, and it’s good. The Harvelles arrive an hour later with no fewer than four pies—apple, pecan, pumpkin, and chocolate—and Dean’s mouth immediately begins to water. “This is awesome!”

 

“Mary said you liked pie,” Ellen replies with a smile, offering him a hug.

 

Dean hugs her back. “I like two kinds of pie—hot pie and cold pie.”

 

“Then I think there might be a kind of pie you like here,” Bill jokes, clapping Dean on the shoulder. “Good to see you again, Dean.”

 

“Same here,” Dean replies. “Hey, Jo.”

 

Jo manages a smile that reaches her eyes and shows no sign of her discomfort the last time Dean had seen her. “Hey, Dean.”

 

“How’s it going?”

 

“Good,” Jo replies. “I, uh, I started at the community college. I’m training to be an EMT.”

 

“That’s great!” Dean says, and glances at Ellen, figuring he knows where the four pies came from now. “Come on back. I think Mom’s still out back raking leaves, and Sam hasn’t emerged from his room except for coffee.”

 

As they enter the kitchen, Dean adds, “You remember Cas, and this is my friend, Charlie. Charlie, the Harvelles. That’s Ellen, Bill, and Jo. They’re old family friends.”

 

“It’s a pleasure,” Charlie replies, shaking each hand in turn, putting on her company manners.

 

“We tried to get Bobby Singer to drive down, but he had a job on the line,” Ellen says. “I wasn’t sure if you’d met him yet, Dean.”

 

Dean shakes his head. “No, not yet, although Mom has mentioned him a few times.”

 

Bill and Ellen share a look, and Bill jokes, “I think your mom is a little sweet on him.”

 

Dean is pretty sure his mom has dated in the years since his dad died, but she never brought guys around. “Good for her,” Dean says.

 

Ellen pats him on the arm. “Can I do anything to help?”

 

“No, we’re in good shape,” Dean replies. “And Cas is helping out. Can I get you guys anything to drink?”

 

“Water would be great,” Ellen says.

 

“Bill, can I get you a beer?” Dean asks.

 

Bill nods. “That would be great. Jo will have water.”

 

Dean snorts. “Got it.”

 

Cas actually gets the water while Dean pulls a beer out of the fridge, then glances at Charlie, who shrugs. “Cas?”

 

“I would take one,” Cas replies.

 

Mary comes in from the backyard. “I thought I heard you guys pull up. Thanks for coming.”

 

“It’s good to see you when it’s not work, Mary,” Bill replies in his gentle manner. “Thank you for having us.”

 

“Thank Dean,” Mary replies. “He’s the one cooking. I’ve been banned from the kitchen.”

 

“Guests are banned, too,” Dean announces. “Unless you’re Cas. I’ve deputized him for the day.”

 

Mary laughs. “Let’s go out to the living room.”

 

Charlie stays put, and after a few minutes, Dean hears Sam’s voice join the others’. He doesn’t know the Harvelles, and Dean can tell he’s a little confused about how their mom knows them. “I met Bill through work,” Mary says, and Dean shakes his head.

 

He’s not really in favor of telling Sam about the hunting, but he knows that the Harvelles’ presence makes it a little more likely that he’ll find out. They haven’t really had guests for the holidays before, and while Cas’ presence makes sense since he’s dating Dean, and Charlie is an old friend, Sam doesn’t know the others.

 

If Dean were Sam, he’d be suspicious, given that the Harvelles know both Dean and Cas already, but Sam’s head is so far up his own ass, he probably won’t even notice.

 

Then again, Dean has been a little suspicious of their mom since that phone call to come get her when he was still a teenager.

 

“Does he not know?” Cas asks quietly.

 

“There’s no reason for him _to_ know,” Dean replies. “Mom didn’t want _me_ to know, but she didn’t really have a choice when she got injured and needed a ride home. Ellen called and told me.”

 

Charlie shrugs. “It’s not like he knows about Moondoor, and you know he doesn’t know the first thing about being a firefighter or EMT. There’s a lot about your life, and your mom’s life, that he doesn’t know. There’s probably a lot about his life that _you_ don’t know.”

 

“A lot that I’d like to know if Sam would deign to talk to me,” Dean counters. “But you make a fair point.”

 

Dean is still a little put out at Sam for leaving in the first place; he’d have rather Sam stayed in Lawrence, but he’s smart enough to know that Sam was always going to leave.

 

“Help me baste the turkey?” Dean asks.

 

Cas holds one end of the roasting pan while Dean holds the other, basting the turkey in its own juices, and checking the meat thermometer. He’s been cooking Thanksgiving dinner for a few years now, and he’s got it down to a science, although it’s nice to have the extra help.

 

Cas follows orders without question, or at least if he has a question, it’s because he’s curious and wants to know something.

 

“What are those?” he asks as Dean shakes fried onions over the top of the casserole. He’s been trying to stay out of them, but they’re addictive.

 

“Try one,” Dean replies, holding out the can. “Fried onions, they’re traditional.”

 

Cas munches the first cautiously, then goes back for another, causing Dean to laugh. “It’s hard to stop at one, but the rest of them go on the casserole, dude. There’s never quite enough.”

 

“I can understand why,” Cas replies. 

 

“And they’re even better after they’ve been baked,” Dean says enthusiastically. “Trust me on this.”

 

“I always trust you,” Cas says simply.

 

“Oh, my god, you guys are so cute I might actually throw up,” Charlie says.

 

Dean shrugs. “You don’t have to stay in the kitchen.”

 

“No, no, this is good drama,” Charlie says. “You guys don’t have to play at being in love or being badasses because that’s what you already are.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Is Moondoor all you think about?”

 

“When I’m not thinking about cyber security? Sure,” Charlie replies with a bright smile.

 

Sam wanders into the kitchen. “Oh, hey, Charlie, good to see you. I didn’t know you were here.”

 

“I had to go somewhere,” Charlie replies. “How’s Stanford?”

 

“Stanford is great!” Sam says. “I’ve been dating this girl, Jess. You’d really like her. I think she might come visit over Christmas. Will you be in town?”

 

“That’s the plan,” Charlie replies, giving Sam a look. Dean thinks she might be waiting for Sam to ask her a question about her life.

 

“Did Mom invite you today?” Sam asks.

 

“Actually, yes,” Charlie says. She doesn’t mention knowing Dean, or that Dean had been the deciding factor in her showing up.

 

Maybe Sam is sensing some discomfort, because he says, “Are you helping Dean cook?”

 

Charlie glances at Dean, who shrugs. “I’m mostly talking to them about Cas’ Moondoor persona.”

 

“You’re still doing that?” Sam asks incredulously. “I thought you’d grown out of it.”

 

“I’m her general,” Dean says, seeing Charlie bristle, and with good reason. He figures he can redirect Sam before Charlie has to smack him.

 

Sam blinks. “What?”

 

“I’m her general,” Dean repeats. “And Cas is going to be joining us.”

 

Sam frowned. “You roped him into that?”

 

“He’s a better fighter than I am,” Dean replies. “And we’ve been having a good time.”

 

Sam snorts. “You’re such a nerd.”

 

“I’m the queen of Moondoor,” Charlie says regally. “So, say that to my face.”

 

Sam backs down. “Good for you guys. I mean, if you’ve got a hobby you like.”

 

“I do like it,” Dean replies. “It’s a good stress reliever.”

 

“Right,” Sam says after a few seconds of silence. “Well, that’s great.”

 

It’s awkward as hell, and Dean says, “We should get started on the salad.”

 

“Do you need any help?” Sam asks. “I may not be much good in the kitchen, but I can make a salad.”

 

“No, we’ve got it covered,” Dean replies. “It’s a little crowded in here.”

 

Sam nods. “Right, okay. Just thought I’d ask,” he says before beating a hasty retreat, with a slightly betrayed look at Charlie.

 

And now his feelings are hurt, and Dean feels a little bad about that, but from Charlie’s expression, she’s not feeling terribly charitable towards Sam right now.

 

“Well, this is fun,” Cas comments dryly. “You didn’t tell me that your brother was a dick.”

 

Dean barks a laugh. “He’s usually not that good at putting his foot in his mouth.”

 

“I don’t remember him being that uptight,” Charlie mutters. “Like Moondoor is something to ‘grow out of.’ Please.”

 

“You know Sam never understood LARP-ing,” Dean adds. “He’s a nerd, but he’s not a nerd like us.”

 

“Truer words were never spoken,” Charlie agrees.

 

They get dinner wrapped up quickly after that, and Dean recruits Sam to set the table. The last few minutes are always a flurry of activity as Dean pulls the turkey out to rest and gets the gravy finished. Cas helps get everything into serving bowls and platters, and then they set the food up buffet-style.

 

Everybody piles into the kitchen to fill their plates, and for a little while there’s silence as they start digging in.

 

Mary is the first to say, “Dean, you’ve really outdone yourself this year.”

 

“It’s excellent,” Ellen agrees. “You’re a damn fine cook.”

 

There’s general agreement around the table, and Sam says, “Yeah, it gets better every year. Good work, Dean.”

 

And for the moment, at least, there’s peace between them.

 

~~~~~

 

Cas enjoys Thanksgiving more than he anticipated. It’s good to see Mary and Sam again, even if they aren’t the same as the people he’d known before. Dean glows at the praise he receives for his cooking, and manages to pack away a piece of each kind of pie.

 

“I can’t believe you ate that much,” Cas remarks as they leave with a bunch of the leftovers.

 

Dean shrugs. “There’s always room for pie.”

 

“Is your brother always like that?” Cas asks.

 

“Well, I caught him flatfooted,” Dean admits. “He didn’t know about the beard, or you, or Moondoor. Sam has always thought he had me pegged, and he’s a smart guy. He doesn’t like not knowing something.”

 

Cas gives him a look. “You enjoyed catching him off guard.”

 

Dean laughs. “Yeah, a little bit. It’s a brother thing.”

 

“I can understand that,” Cas replies. “You got to show him that he doesn’t know you as well as he thinks, and that he should maybe stay in touch if he wants to know you.”

 

“Something like that,” Dean admits. “But you had a good time?”

 

“I did,” Cas replies. “I like the Harvelles, and your family, and the food was excellent.”

 

“Thanks for your help,” Dean replies. “It was great to have you there today.”

 

“I was glad to be there,” Cas replies.

 

Dean clears his throat. “I hope you know the same goes for Christmas, too, and any other holiday. I want you with me all the time.”

 

Cas hesitates, and says, “I could stay more often.”

 

“I’m not going to say no,” Dean replies. “It’s probably too soon to move in together, but you certainly don’t ever have to go home. If you don’t mind.”

 

“I don’t mind.” Cas wants nothing more than to move in, to spend all of his free time at Dean’s apartment. He wants what he had before, when he’d been staying at the bunker full time.

 

He wants what he had, even though he knows it’s foolish to hope that he can have that again. He wants at least a facsimile of it.

 

Dean pulls up in front of his place, and he says, “Mi casa es su casa. Always.”

 

“Your place feels more like home than my own,” Cas admits.

 

Dean gives him a quick kiss. “I think we’d better get inside, because otherwise, we’re going to shock the neighbors.”

 

Cas grins. “I could live with that.”

 

“I have nosy neighbors,” Dean replies. “They’d probably score our performance.”

 

“Then we really should get inside,” Cas replies.

 

They barely make it past the apartment door before Dean is shoving Cas against it, and Cas welcomes the rough handling. It feels real, and when Dean pauses to ask, “Is this okay?” all Cas can say is, “Please.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Dean says, shoving a hand up the back of Cas’ t-shirt, his warm, callused palm pulling Cas closer, their hips slotting together. Their shirts come off, and they stumble to the bedroom, losing clothing along the way. When they tumble into bed together, Dean looks at him. “What do you want to do?”

 

“Anything,” Cas replies. “I’ll give you anything.”

 

“Can I fuck you?” Dean asks.

 

“Yes,” Cas replies immediately.

 

“Okay, gotta grab the lube,” Dean says, reaching over Cas to the bedside table.

 

It’s awkward and endearing and better than any of the fantasies Cas has ever had, and he says, “I love you.”

 

“Love you, too,” Dean says, pausing in his hunt for a quick kiss. “What was that for?”

 

“Sometimes it just hits me all over again how lucky I am,” Cas replies.

 

Dean’s expression goes tender. “I’m the lucky one, Cas.”

 

“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” Cas replies.

 

Dean finds the lube and condoms, and he goes slow and gentle, the earlier roughness absent. Dean is careful, and takes his time until Cas is begging for Dean to go faster, to fuck him already.

 

“Dean, please,” he says as Dean adds a third finger, moving so very slowly.

 

“I got you,” Dean replies. “Do you trust me?”

 

“Always,” Cas says.

 

“Then trust me to make it so good for you,” Dean says.

 

Cas groans. “Okay, yeah.”

 

Dean slides inside a few minutes later, moving slowly, drawing out Cas’ orgasm as much as possible.

 

Cas urges him on, but Dean won’t be rushed. “I got you,” he keeps saying. “I got you, Cas.”

 

And then Cas is just a mass of feeling—of Dean inside him, of the need to come, of sheer gratitude for Dean being here with him.

 

And then Dean starts to jack Cas off, and Cas comes in short order.

 

Dean isn’t far behind, and when he pulls out, he deals with the condom efficiently, then returns to the bed with a washcloth to clean Cas up. He tosses the washcloth on the floor, then pulls Cas close. “Okay?”

 

“More than okay,” Cas asserts. “Thank you.”

 

“You seemed like you needed to get out of your head,” Dean replies. “I mean, I did, too, but I could be wrong.”

 

He isn’t sure how to respond. “I enjoyed meeting your family.”

 

“But?” Dean prompts.

 

“Old memories,” Cas says. “There were—people I cared about who aren’t here, and today was a reminder of that.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Dean says immediately. “I didn’t even think about that.”

 

“We never celebrated Thanksgiving together,” Cas counters. “I don’t have memories around Thanksgiving. That wasn’t an issue.”

 

“So, what was?” Dean asks, running a hand through Cas’ hair.

 

“Your brother reminds me of someone I knew,” Cas admits. “Although, I have to admit, it doesn’t show your brother in a positive light.”

 

“He did not acquit himself well today,” Dean replies. “But I think that will change as he gets older. At least I hope so. Otherwise, Charlie might kill him.”

 

Cas laughs. “I think she wanted to today.”

 

“Little bit,” Dean agrees. “You okay, Cas?”

 

“I am,” Cas says. “Tonight helped. Having you helps.”

 

Dean kisses his bare shoulder. “I’m glad for that. If you need anything, you can tell me.”

 

“I have everything I need right now,” Cas assures him.

 

“You’ll tell me if that changes,” Dean insists.

 

“Of course,” Cas replies, and means every word.

 

~~~~~

 

Dean’s mom suggests they come over for lunch the day after Thanksgiving, mostly to spend time with Sam before he heads back to school. Dean would rather patch things up a bit before Sam heads back to Stanford, and thinks they might connect a little better without everybody else around.

 

As the newest staff member, Cas has to work. The library has limited hours, but someone has to be there to supervise the student workers, and he’s on the hook. Dean also gets the sense that he’s not anxious to see Sam again, which Dean understands—Sam stuck his foot pretty far into his mouth—but there’s more to it than that.

 

The way Cas looked at Sam, Dean knows there’s more to it than Sam just being a bit of an ass. Cas almost looked like he recognized Sam, but not. Maybe Sam looks like someone he used to know.

 

Dean drives Cas to work and presses a kiss to his lips when he drops him off in front of the library.

 

“You don’t need to pick me up if you’re busy,” Cas says.

 

Dean shakes his head. “I’ll probably be ready for a break by then. I don’t mind.”

 

Cas smiles. “I can drive, you know.”

 

“I do know, but I like driving you,” Dean says. “It’s additional time we can spend together.”

 

“Then who am I to say no?” Cas says. “I’ll see you tonight.”

 

Dean drives over to his mom’s house, with a pit stop at the donut place Sam used to like. Maybe he doesn’t eat donuts anymore; maybe he’s watching his figure. But Dean needs to have a place to start, and maybe Sam will be feeling nostalgic after all the shocks of the prior day.

 

“Hey, Dean,” his mom says, meeting him at the door. “What’s this?”

 

“Donuts from that place Sammy used to like,” Dean replies. “Is he up yet?”

 

Mary laughs. “No. I’m pretty sure he was up until the wee hours of the morning talking to his girlfriend.”

 

Dean shrugs. “Ah, young love.”

 

“You should talk,” Mary replies, and taps a spot on Dean’s neck. “Maybe you weren’t up all night, but I don’t think you were playing checkers.”

 

Dean winces. “Whoops?”

 

“I’m glad you have a relationship that has some passion to it,” Mary replies. “I remember one time with your dad—”

 

“Okay!” Dean interrupts. “I am really glad that you and dad were deeply in love, but I do not need the details.”

 

“Neither do I,” she counters. “But I am glad for you, Dean. I like Cas. He’s a nice guy, and he clearly thinks the world of you.”

 

Dean smiles. “Thanks, Mom.”

 

“Are we watching football?” his mom asks.

 

Dean laughs. “And when have we done that?”

 

Mary smiles. “I thought it might give us all some common ground.”

 

“None of us have ever watched football, so I’m not sure what us being bored will accomplish,” Dean says.

 

“It will give us something in common to complain about,” Mary suggests.

 

Dean snorts. “Let’s see how this goes. Football can be a last resort. Maybe we can pull out one of those old board games you used to make us play—but not Monopoly.”

 

Mary smiles. “Trivial Pursuit?”

 

“Sam will probably win, and that might make him feel better,” Dean says. “So, sure.”

 

“You’re a good brother, Dean,” Mary says. “You’re a good son, too. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren’t.”

 

Dean can’t quite believe the words coming out of her mouth, but he’s grateful for them. “Thanks, Mom.”

 

“Those were words I should have said a long time ago,” Mary replies. “I had this picture in my head about what you and Sam were going to do and be, when I should have just focused on you guys being happy.”

 

“I’m happy,” Dean says. “I’ve never been happier.”

 

Mary puts an arm around his shoulders. “Good. Are you guys coming back over tonight after you pick Cas up?”

 

“I’ve got tonight off, but I’m back on tomorrow night,” Dean hedges. “So, maybe?”

 

“I have coffee,” Mary says without arguing.

 

They make easy small talk over coffee—about Dean’s job, his relationship with Cas, even his friendship with Charlie. It’s clear that his mom doesn’t understand Moondoor, but when she asks Dean about it, she’s attentive and doesn’t belittle his interest the way Sam had.

 

“And Cas enjoys it, too?” Mary asks.

 

Dean shrugs. “He seems to. Honestly, it seems like he was born for it. He’s a nerdy librarian by day, and a badass when you put a sword in his hand.”

 

“Have you done a background check?” Mary asks.

 

“Ellen did one, I’m sure,” Dean replies. “Check with her.”

 

“You didn’t?” Mary asks.

 

Dean gives her a look. “I’m an EMT, and I’m studying to be a nurse. I may be fully aware of the depravity of man, but I need to believe the best of people. It doesn’t matter how shitty someone is, I have to treat them like they’re a saint until I know otherwise.”

 

“You’re a better man than I am,” Mary replies. “And Ellen has already vouched for Cas, so I can accept that.”

 

“That’s big of you,” Dean replies.

 

“Ellen has more contacts than I do,” Mary says. “So, if there was anything to turn up, she would have done so. Also, Ellen _loves_ you right now.”

 

Dean gives her a look. “Come on. She’s always loved me. Now that Jo is going for her EMT certification, I’m her favorite person in the world.”

 

Mary laughs. “You’re not wrong. I have never known Ellen to be that fond of anyone other than Bill.”

 

“What can I say?” Dean asks. “I’m my mother’s son.”

 

Mary tsks, but she wears a smile. “Since Ellen has never liked me that much, I think you might have your dad’s charm. John did have a way with the ladies.”

 

Dean has been hearing all his life about how much he resembles or is like his mom, but hearing her connect some aspect of himself with his dad means a lot.

 

“Not just the ladies,” Dean counters.

 

“I can’t say anything about your ability about the less fair sex, unless it’s your good taste,” Mary replies. “Because Cas has passed Ellen’s bill for a clean record, and he passes my requirements. I like him a lot more than any of the girls you brought home.”

 

“Good to know,” Dean replies. “Since Sam is still in bed, can I get you anything?”

 

“I’m going to have a donut, and another cup of coffee,” Mary replies. “And we can sit and talk about Cas and how school is going.”

 

Dean frowns. “I think we already talked about that.”

 

“We haven’t talked about your relationship, and we haven’t talked about how you two met,” Mary counters.

 

Dean laughs. “Well, I’m glad Ellen ran a background check on him, because I’m pretty sure he was sort of stalking me.”

 

He tells his mom about how he kept seeing Cas around, and then approached him, and how awkward it was. “He lost someone, and I looked like him. It didn’t really freak me out, but eventually I had to approach him.”

 

“And then?” Mary asks.

 

“We went on a date, he was awkward, and also completely adorable,” Dean admits. “Then I took him to fighter practice, and he rocked it. And that was it for me. He was just…perfect.”

 

“Sometimes you just know,” Mary admits. “It was like that with your dad. Our first few meetings weren’t terribly auspicious, but there came a point in time when I saw him in a new light, and I just knew he was the one. And when you know, you know.”

 

“We fit, Mom,” Dean says. “I can’t imagine my life without him in it. And given what I know of his background, and his loss, I can’t even imagine how he’s still standing.”

 

“You’re a strong man,” Mary says. “But that kind of loss—it guts you. The fact that Cas can open himself up again and even _think_ about a relationship says a lot about his heart.”

 

“He has a good one,” Dean agrees. “He’s the first person I’ve dated to really _see_ me, and when he looks at me, I feel—I feel like I could do anything.”

 

Mary touches his cheek. “You _can_ do anything, but I know what that’s like.” Her expression turns troubled. “There are things about my past, about what I’ve done, that I haven’t told you. I think you know that.”

 

Dean swallows. “Yeah, I do. But I’ll tell you the same thing I told Cas. You tell me when you’re ready. I can wait.”

 

Her expression is so tender Dean can hardly stand it, and she kisses him on the forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

 

Sam clears his throat from the doorway. “Sorry if I’m interrupting.”

 

“You’re not,” Mary replies. “There’s coffee, and Dean brought donuts.”

 

Sam brightens. “Are those Letty’s donuts?”

 

“Would I bring anything else?” Dean asks. “I wasn’t sure if you still ate donuts.”

 

“Well, if they’re from Letty’s, sure,” Sam replies, snagging one. “God, I missed these.”

 

It’s on the tip of Dean’s tongue to tell Sam he could have donuts more often if he actually visited, but that seems counterproductive. “Glad you still like them, man.’

 

“Yeah, they’re great,” Sam says around a mouthful. “Thanks. This was above and beyond.”

 

Dean doesn’t argue with him. “You’re welcome.”

 

“Hey, look, about yesterday,” Sam begins after his first bite. “I said some shitty stuff, and I didn’t mean it. I’m glad you’re happy with Cas, and I’m glad you have an outlet with Charlie.”

 

Dean decides to take that. “Thanks.”

 

“Mom said you were going back to school,” Sam says.

 

Dean doesn’t entirely trust Sam’s interest. “I’m going for my nursing degree, and I want to be a trauma nurse.”

 

“That’s great,” Sam replies, and Dean isn’t sure if he’s sincere or their mom knocked some sense into him.

 

“It’s a living,” Dean replies. “They always need nurses.”

 

“You’re going to be saving the world,” Sam says, but the teasing doesn’t feel mean, and Dean slugs him in the shoulder.

 

“They say the world gets saved one life at a time,” Dean replies.

 

Sam shrugs. “No doubt.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes, but at least they’re back on solid ground. “What about you? School still going okay?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Sam replies. “And I have a job as a runner lined up for this summer already.”

 

Dean glances at his mom, who forces a smile. “That’s great, sweetheart, but I thought you were going to try to find a position here for the summer, to save money.”

 

“I’ll find some roommates,” Sam says dismissively.

 

Mary frowns. “Lawrence is a much cheaper place to live.”

 

“But if I want to stay in that area, I need to make connections,” Sam argues. “And it’s a good firm.”

 

“I’m sure it is, and your scholarship covers tuition and books, but not living expenses,” Mary points out. “You could make good money here and save on housing.”

 

Dean knows his mom pays a good chunk of Sam’s living expenses, and that housing is expensive, a lot more expensive than if Sam lived at home for the summer where rent is free. Sam has a part-time job, and he helps, but he can’t work the number of hours he needs to and maintain his grades.

 

Or at least, that’s the story. Dean’s working full time and going to school, and he’s keeping _his_ grades up.

 

“This is a huge deal, Mom,” Sam says. “It’s an opportunity at one of the biggest firms in the area. The connections are worth it.”

 

Mary nods. “I understand that, but Sam, I can’t help you financially this summer if you stay in California.”

 

Dean shifts uncomfortably, really not wanting to be here for that conversation. Betrayal flashes across Sam’s face, before he forces a neutral expression with a shrug. “Okay, fine.”

 

Mary sighs. “I already told you that, Sam.”

 

“But that was before I got this job!” Sam protests. “They’re going to pay me twice what I’d make here.”

 

“And you’ll be paying a hell of a lot more in expenses,” Mary replies, exasperated. “We _talked_ about this!”

 

“No, you talked, and I listened,” Sam replies heatedly. “This is a great job.”

 

Mary’s mouth firms into a line, and Dean knows that expression. Her mind has been made up, and she’s not going to back down. She and Sam rarely argue like this, but Dean can see his mom’s point. She paid for Sam to stay in California last summer, but Dean thinks it’s reasonable that Mary would look at the cost and decide that she can’t do it again.

 

“If it’s a great job, then you won’t have a problem paying your own way,” Mary says. “Dean does.”

 

Dean holds up his hands. “Hey, leave me out of this.”

 

“Oh, yeah, well, Dean is the one who wanted to stay close to home, and I’m not Dean,” Sam snaps.

 

Dean decides he’s going to get involved anyway. “Sam, did Mom tell you that she couldn’t pay for you to stay in Stanford next summer?”

 

Sam’s expression turns sullen. “Yes.”

 

“Okay, then you knew the price of admission,” Dean replies. “Choices have consequences. You have to ask yourself what’s more important to you—saving up some money, or taking that job.”

 

Sam squirms.“Okay, fair.”

 

Dean’s not used to playing peacemaker, and he says, “How about we watch some football?”

 

“We never watch football,” Sam objects.

 

“It’s a neutral subject,” Dean replies. “And maybe we could all use that right now.”

 

Mary smiles. “Football it is, then.”

 

~~~~~

 

Cas climbs into the cab of Dean’s truck. “How was your day with your family?”

 

“Interesting,” Dean replies. “I’m not used to being the peacemaker, or being the favored son. Would you mind going back over there to have dinner?”

 

Cas shrugs. “No, I understand that you want to spend time with your brother.”

 

“Actually, Sam asked if I would bring you back by,” Dean replies. “I think he wants a second chance to make a first impression.”

 

Cas raises his eyebrows. “That’s an oxymoron.”

 

Dean laughs. “You’re right about that, but Sam wanted a chance to apologize in person since he leaves on Sunday. If you hate the idea, I’ll call and tell Mom we’re off. It’s just leftovers.”

 

“I had hoped that you would fuck me, but I suppose that can wait,” Cas replies archly.

 

“That is rude,” Dean says. “Seriously, rude.”

 

Cas laughs. “You’re asking me to deal with your brother again.”

 

“He’ll be on his best behavior,” Dean counters. “Also, he’s way more irritated with Mom right now than he is me or you.”

 

“What happened?” Cas asks.

 

“Mom told him that she wasn’t going to support him financially over the summer,” Dean explains. “He could live at home if he wanted to come back and work here, or he could stay in California, but he’d have to support himself. Sam got a job, and he thought she’d change her mind.”

 

Cas snorts. “Your mother is not the sort to change her mind once she’s made it up.”

 

“Funny how you know that after just meeting her, and Sam hasn’t figured it out yet,” Dean replies. “But they’re both stubborn.”

 

“It must run in the family,” Cas comments.

 

“Funny guy,” Dean replies. “You really don’t mind?”

 

“They’re your family, Dean,” Cas replies. “You haven’t seen Sam in months. Of course, you want to spend time with him.”

 

Dean sighs. “Yeah, but I hate making you uncomfortable.”

 

Cas thinks about the months spent without Dean, feeling as though he’s lost everything. “Your brother is a minor annoyance, at best,” Cas replies. “Frankly, I was more offended that he hurt Charlie’s feelings.”

 

“You’ll make a loyal minion,” Dean says. “And I’m right there with you, man. I don’t think Sam’s even tried to apologize to Charlie yet.”

 

Cas frowns. “Have you talked to him about that?”

 

“Nope, because Charlie would kick my ass if Sam apologized and she knew I’d forced it out of him,” Dean replies. “If Sam does apologize, it’s going to have to come from Sam and Sam alone.”

 

“Fair enough,” Cas replies. “I’d probably feel the same way.”

 

“And I’m pretty sure he’s only apologizing to us because a) Mom read him the riot act, and b) she told him we were serious, and he realized that you’re probably going to be his brother-in-law one day,” Dean says.

 

Cas blinks. “His brother-in-law?”

 

“Oh, shit,” Dean says. “That was—I’m sorry. I’m jumping ahead.”

 

“Clearly,” Cas says dryly. “Although that’s not an outcome I’m opposed to.”

 

Dean glances at him. “I—seriously?”

 

Cas just looks at him.

 

“Okay, well, in a year or so, assuming we’re still together and going strong, and you haven’t decided I’m a bad bet, I’ll pop the question, and I’ll know the answer unless you’ve changed your mind,” Dean says.

 

“I don’t believe there’s any chance of that,” Cas says.

 

“Something might come up,” Dean counters.

 

Cas shakes his head. “Unlikely, but I’m fine with your timeline.”

 

Dean laughs. “Yeah, okay. It’s a date. We’ll revisit it again a year from now.”

 

Cas feels a warm glow at that, knowing that Dean is thinking about being with him in a year, and then beyond. “I look forward to it.”

 

Dean laughs and reaches out to grab Cas’ hand. “You’re too good for me, Cas.”

 

“Impossible,” Cas replies, squeezing Dean’s hand tightly.

 

Cas isn’t feeling terribly hopeful about his next meeting with Sam, but he’s willing to try for Dean’s sake. He’s willing to try to forget that other world, and the people he knew there for the chance to have Dean.

 

If that’s the price, he’s willing to pay it. Cas gave up Jack, he gave up Sam and everything else. Cas gave up everything for Dean, and he counts it a good bargain.

 

It was a hard bargain, but Cas believes it’s worth it. What he has now is worth it.

 

Dean pulls up in front of his mom’s house. “Once more into the breach, I guess.”

 

Cas follows Dean inside, and Dean grabs his hand. “I love you,” Cas murmurs.

 

“Back atcha,” Dean replies.

 

Sam and Mary are both in the kitchen when they enter and Mary greets Cas warmly. “Hi, Cas. How was your day?”

 

“Good,” Cas replies. “Uneventful.”

 

“That’s good to hear,” Mary replies, and gives Sam a look.

 

Cas realizes that he’s seeing the control Mary Winchester can exert over her sons’ lives when she was the one raising them, because Sam says, “I was an ass yesterday, and I’m sorry.”

 

“Apology accepted,” Cas replies, because there’s no point in holding a grudge. Sam is clearly young and immature, and he will either learn or he won’t.

 

Cas misses his friend, but this version of Sam isn’t the one he’d known.  And besides, Cas is fairly sure that Charlie will hold enough of a grudge for both of them.

 

Sam gives Cas a look like he’s not sure the acceptance is sincere, but then he shrugs. “Thanks.”

 

Dean throws an arm around Cas’ shoulders. “So, what do you want to eat?”

 

“I thought we could do turkey sandwiches,” Mary says. “If that’s okay.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” Sam says cheerfully.

 

Cas nods. “That’s fine.”

 

“I’ll get things out,” Mary says.

 

Cas gets the feeling that Mary is happy to have both of her boys home, even if there’s inevitably friction. Cas copies Dean as he layers turkey, cheese, and cranberry sauce on a couple of dinner rolls with reheated green bean casserole and mashed potatoes.

 

Maybe Sam has decided to use his best behavior, maybe Mary had threatened him with dismemberment if he didn’t behave, or maybe they’d just run out of contentious topics. Whatever the case, they stick to pleasant topics—Sam’s classes, Dean’s classes, some of Dean’s more amusing job-related stories.

 

Cas doesn’t have much to add to the conversation, but then Dean says, “Oh, Mom, I forgot to tell you. We had dinner with Missouri Mosley the other week.”

 

Mary blinks. “With Missouri? How did you meet her?”

 

“Cas ran into her, actually,” Dean replies. “She took him under her wing.”

 

Mary glances at Cas, and says, “She’s an interesting character.”

 

“Who is she?” Sam asks.

 

“She’s a psychic,” Dean says. “Quite a talented one, too.”

 

Sam looks like he’s waiting for the punchline. “You’re kidding.”

 

“No, she really is psychic,” Mary admits reluctantly.

 

Sam frowns. “There’s no such thing.”

 

Dean snorts. “Say that after you meet her, and she tells you things she has no way of knowing otherwise.”

 

“Are you all screwing with me?” Sam asks.

 

“There are more things in this world than you know, Sam,” Cas says quietly.

 

Sam frowns. “Like what?”

 

Mary’s expression is alarmed, but Cas just says, “Psychics for one. And I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a ghost.”

 

Sam gives him a look, like he doesn’t believe it, but Cas isn’t interested in convincing him, partly because he knows Mary doesn’t want Sam to know anything about the hunting world, and partly because he has no way of convincing Sam of the veracity.

 

“It’s hard to know what Missouri is,” Mary prevaricates. “She’s definitely a character, though.”

 

Sam frowns, like he’s still thinking he’s being taken for a ride. “Okay, well, it seems weird I haven’t heard of her before.”

 

“Missouri and I don’t exactly see eye to eye,” Mary says. “And she knows better than to approach my boys.”

 

Cas feels like that’s an indictment on him, but he refuses to feel guilty. Missouri had been kind to him, and to Dean.

 

“Maybe I’ll introduce you guys over Christmas break,” Dean jokes.

 

Mary glares at him, but Cas knows she’s wishing she could speak her mind, and can’t in front of Sam.

 

“I think I’ll pass,” Sam replies.

 

Judging from his skeptical expression, he doesn’t believe that she’s psychic and doesn’t want to pretend to believe her.

 

It’s Sam’s loss, as far as Cas is concerned, but Mary appears relieved. “Well, it’s interesting that your paths crossed.”

 

“And when are our paths going to cross with Bobby’s?” Dean asks.

 

Dean almost seems to be baiting his mom, and Cas wonders what he’s doing.

 

“He thought he might be able to come for Christmas, or maybe right after,” Mary replies, unperturbed. “He’s looking forward to meeting you boys.”

 

Dean appears a little surprised by that, but he grins. “Yeah? He wants to meet us?”

 

“That’s what he’s said,” Mary replies. “He would have been down here for Thanksgiving, but he had something come up.”

 

“Who’s Bobby?” Sam asks.

 

Mary takes a breath. “My significant other.”

 

“You’re dating again?” Sam demands.

 

Dean makes a sound that might be a cough or might be a laugh, and Cas is fairly certain that one of Mary’s sons has a realistic idea of her dating life, but it’s clearly not Sam.

 

“Is there any reason I shouldn’t?” Mary asks, a little archly.

 

There’s no good answer to that question unless Sam wants to out himself as an immature jerk who doesn’t want their mom to ever date again. “I look forward to meeting him,” Sam manages to say.

 

Dean hides a smirk behind his hand. “I’m definitely looking forward to meeting him, Mom. Ellen speaks pretty highly of Bobby.”

 

“I don’t get how you know Ellen,” Sam objects. “I mean, she has a bar in Nebraska.”

 

“And they sometimes have bar fights with people who don’t want to go to the hospital,” Dean replies. “And I’m an EMT who can patch people up. It’s nothing more than that.”

 

“That makes sense,” Sam replies. “Heck, I have friends on campus who try to get free medical care out of the pre-med folks.”

 

The simplest explanation is usually the best, and Mary gives Dean a grateful look.

 

“How did you meet the Harvelles?” Sam asks his mom.

 

That one is probably a little harder to answer, and Mary says, “They were old friends of my family.”

 

“I thought you didn’t like your family,” Sam objects.

 

“I don’t,” Mary replies. “But just because I don’t get along with my family doesn’t mean I have to throw the baby out with the bathwater, and the Harvelles are good people.”

 

That seems to be good enough for Sam, who probably doesn’t want to dig too deeply after the revelation about Mary dating again.

 

They finish out the evening peacefully enough, watching a movie that’s on TV, an action flick with Bruce Willis that Cas doesn’t pay much attention to. Cas is leaning against Dean, and Dean is holding his hand.

 

The movie is less important than the feeling of Dean pressed against his side, Dean’s hand in his, the sense of safety and support.

 

When the movie is over, Dean says, “Well, I think that’s us out, and I have to work tomorrow evening, but I can probably stop by beforehand.”

 

“Are you seeing Charlie again any time soon?” Sam asks.

 

“We usually meet up for breakfast on Saturday morning at the diner,” Dean says.

 

“You think she’d mind if I crashed the party?” Sam asks.

 

“Since we usually talk Moondoor, that would entirely depend on you,” Dean counters.

 

Sam sighs. “Yeah, I know I fucked that up, too.”

 

“Then you can join us, just so long as you make it clear that the idea is from you, and that I didn’t put you up to it,” Dean replies. “Because she might be your friend, but she’s my queen.”

 

“Got it,” Sam replies. “And it was my mess, so I’ll clean it up.”

 

“It was, and it is,” Dean agrees. “Glad you realized that without me having to tell you.”

 

Sam flushes. “Yeah, well, Mom might have said something to me.”

 

“Tell me something I don’t know, dude,” Dean replies. “Come find us at the diner around 7. You know the one?”

 

Sam nods. “Yeah. Thanks, man.”

 

“Have a nice night, boys,” Mary says, and judging by her expression, she has some idea of what they might be doing.

 

Given Sam’s grimace, he has some idea, too.

 

“See you tomorrow morning, bro,” Dean says, and after they leave, Dean says, “I know you weren’t totally on board with seeing Sam. You okay?”

 

“It turns out that your brother isn’t a total dick,” Cas comments as they climb into Dean’s truck. “Who knew?”

 

Dean laughs. “Yeah, I guess so.”

 

“Do you need to stay up tonight to mitigate the change to night shift?” Cas asks.

 

“You know me so well,” Dean replies. “Do you mind?”

 

“I have two days to catch up on sleep, so no,” Cas replies. “We can stay up all night if you want.”

 

“Maybe not all night, but I can think of some ways to bide our time,” Dean replies.

 

**Then**

 

Cas pokes his head into Sam’s quarters. It’s three days after Dean has said yes, and Cas hasn’t listened to the mix tape Dean left him yet. That’s an oversight on Cas’ part, but his curiosity is overwhelming.

 

“Do you have a means to listen to a cassette tape?” he asks.

 

“Uh, yeah, I do,” Sam replies.“What’s up?”

 

Cas isn’t sure he should say. “It’s just—something Dean gave me. A tape. I haven’t listened to it.”

 

Sam’s expression goes sympathetic. “Yeah, man, I’ve got you. Let me grab it.”

 

He rummages in a drawer and comes up with something that Can vaguely recognizes as something called a Walkman. “Here you go. Happy listening. Do you need help figuring it out?”

 

“No, I think I’ve got it,” Cas replies. “Thanks.”

 

He has to fumble the tape into the player, and he puts the old, foam headphones over his ears and presses play. The first song begins with “there’s a lady that’s sure all that glitters is gold,” and Cas recognizes it. He’s heard it enough while riding in the Impala.

 

It’s a little ironic, since he’s given up on heaven, plus he doesn’t expect it to survive much longer.

 

But the songs, as he listens to them, remind him of Dean, and being in the backseat of the Impala, and then the next song begins.

 

“And if I say to you tomorrow,” the song begins, and Cas recognizes that one, too.

 

He closes his eyes and allows the familiar music wash over him, feeling close to Dean even though he’s so very far away.

 

**Now**

 

Dean slides into the booth after Cas and across from Charlie. “How’s it going?”

 

Charlie shrugs. “It’s going. What about you? Has Sam pulled his head out of his ass?”

 

“You can judge for yourself,” Dean replies. “He asked if he could join us this morning.”

 

Charlie gives Dean a look. “So he can make fun of Moondoor again?”

 

“He said he wanted to apologize,” Dean replies. “Jury’s still out.”

 

Charlie grimaces. “Fine. But if he acts like a jerk again, I’m going to punch him.”

 

“He’ll deserve it,” Dean says. “If it were anybody other than you, I might have a problem with it, but it’s you.”

 

“And we’re family,” Charlie agrees. “By the way, Cas, your costume is done.”

 

“And we’re still good to go on the chainmail. I got confirmation that it’s going to ship after Christmas,” Dean adds.

 

Their regular waitress, Noemi, comes by with coffee. “Your usual today?”

 

“Pancakes for me,” Dean agrees. “With sausage.”

 

“The omelette special, please,” Charlie says.

 

Cas hesitates. “The blue plate special, I think.”

 

“My brother might be showing up,” Dean adds.

 

“I’ll keep an eye out for him,” Noemi replies. “Holler if you need anything.”

 

“Sam did know what time we were meeting, right?” Charlie asks.

 

“He knows,” Dean replies, although he’s not surprised that Sam’s late. Dean is used to getting up early—or staying up all night—but Sam’s a college student, and he’s been sleeping in late since being back. “Honestly, I probably would have been more surprised if he’d been on time.”

 

“How are things looking for finals for you?” Charlie asks.

 

Dean grimaces. “It’s going to be a tough semester. Good thing that Cas is practically living with me, or he probably wouldn’t see me.”

 

“You’re going to do well,” Cas asserts. “You’ve been working hard.”

 

“Let’s hope so,” Dean says. “The nursing program is notoriously difficult to get into, and if my grades aren’t good enough, I’ll be fucked.”

 

“Cas is right,” Charlie says. “You’re going to do great, because if nothing else, you can show up your brother.”

 

Dean laughs. “Little chance of that, but you make a good point.”

 

They’re halfway through breakfast by the time Sam finally joins them, looking harried. “Sorry I’m late. I overslept.”

 

“No kidding,” Dean says. “It’s nice of you to join us.”

 

Sam grimaces. “Can I sit?” he asks Charlie.

 

She raises her eyebrows. “I don’t know, can you?”

 

“I’m sorry I was a dick,” Sam replies. “I know I hurt your feelings, and I didn’t mean to.”

 

Charlie glares at him. “Apology accepted, assuming you keep your foot out of your mouth.”

 

“I’ll try,” Sam promises.

 

“Then you can sit,” Charlie says magnanimously.

 

Noemi comes by moments later to fill Sam’s coffee mug. “What can I get for you, sweetie?”

 

“Do you have an egg white omelette?” Sam asks.

 

Noemi raises her eyebrows, but says, “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

“How very California of you, Sammy,” Dean drawls.

 

“It’s healthier,” Sam protests. “It’s never too early to start thinking about cholesterol.”

 

“Sure,” Dean replies.

 

“I think Dean does just fine,” Cas says loyally.  “He tends to cook very healthy meals when we’re at home.”

 

“And I work out,” Dean adds. “You try moving patients if you’re not fit.”

 

He’s actually a little surprised that Sam doesn’t know that, given that Dean wrestled in high school and had to make weight. Plus, there’s always fighter practice and Moondoor, and Dean has to fit into both his costume and his armor.

 

“You can be otherwise healthy and have high cholesterol, Dean,” Sam lectures.

 

Cas glances at Dean, his expression clearly saying, “What the fuck?”

 

“And I will keep that in mind,” Dean replies. “Thank you for your concern.”

 

He’s used to saying that to his mom, and he has no problem saying that to his brother, too.

 

Charlie giggles, probably because she knows that translates into “fuck you.”

 

Still, if Sam wants to worry about his cholesterol, there are worse things. At least he cares.

 

“How are your classes going?” Sam asks. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you guys the other day.”

 

“We’ll see,” Dean replies. “It’s going to be a tough semester.”

 

“Same,” Charlie says. “My computer classes aren’t bad, but everything else kind of sucks.”

 

“Microbiology is the worst for me,” Dean says. “At least, this semester.”

 

Sam groans. “I swear, my international relations professor is the worst.”

 

Cas can’t offer much, since he’s not in school, but complaints about homework are a constant among college students, and they pass the time companionably. It’s probably the easiest Dean has felt in Sam’s company in years, and he’s grateful that they’re leaving on good terms.

 

“I’ll see you at Christmas,” Sam says when Dean announces that they have to leave. “Take care of yourself.”

 

“You, too,” Dean replies. “And I want to meet that girl of yours.”

 

“I think she’ll come out for New Year’s,” Sam replies. “I’ll work on her.”

 

“Good,” Dean replies.

 

“If you’ve got the time, maybe we could hang out a little longer?” Sam asks Charlie.

 

Charlie has clearly softened. “Sure. It’ll be just like old times.”

 

“Have fun, you two,” Dean replies.  As they leave the diner, Dean says, “So, how do you feel about Sam now?”

 

“He will always be your brother,” Cas replies. “And therefore, he will always be family. How I feel about him will probably depend on the day, and how stupid he’s being.”

 

Dean barks a laugh. “Yeah, that’s about how I feel, too. He’ll always be my brother, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a jerk on occasion.”

 

“You want to get some sleep?” Cas asks.

 

“Yeah, I do,” Dean replies. “You don’t mind? You’re going to get your days and nights mixed up.”

 

“I don’t mind if that happens,” Cas replies. “I’ll get them straightened out again.”

 

“Then, let’s take a nap,” Dean replies.

 

He and Cas have the day to nap and maybe do some other things. Hopefully, a lot of other things. But they’re going to have some time, and that’s the important thing.

 

~~~~~

 

Cas drifts around Dean’s place once he heads into work. Like Dean warned, his days and nights are turned around, He’s not ready to go to bed, and he’s feeling rather bereft. He’s missing those he knew in his previous life.

 

His phone rings, and he picks it up. “Yes?”

 

“Cas, Missouri here,” she says. “I think you might need the company tonight.”

 

“I do,” Cas admits. “Where should I meet you?”

 

“There’s a 9 pm showing of _Casablanca_ at Liberty Hall,” Missouri says. “You can get some culture.”

 

He hasn’t seen the movie, but he trusts Missouri and doesn’t want to be inside his own head right now, so he says, “I haven’t seen that. Apparently, I should.”

 

“You meet me there, Angel-Man,” Missouri says. “I’ll buy the popcorn.”

 

Cas drives to the theater, having parked his car outside Dean’s place for the last couple of weeks, although he hasn’t driven it much.

 

Missouri refuses to talk before the movie since they arrive not long before it starts, with just enough time to get popcorn.

 

Cas enjoys it, although he isn’t sure why people think that the love story is between Rick and Ilsa. when Rick and Renault have such great chemistry, and that pairing makes way more sense.

 

He says as much to Missouri when the movie is over. “Well, I can’t say that I disagree,” Missouri replies. “But you know it would never have made it on screen.”

 

Cas doesn’t really understand why humans—some humans, anyway—draw a distinction between a relationship between a man and a woman and two members of the same sex. But then, Cas doesn’t know an angel who has a preference for a vessel of a certain gender.

 

“I know,” Cas replies heavily.

 

“What’s troubling you?” Missouri asks. “You’re out of sorts.”

 

“Sometimes I miss that other world,” Cas replies. “I know I shouldn’t. I have Dean, and this world is better, but I miss the Sam I knew, and I miss Jack.”

 

Missouri’s expression is deeply sympathetic. “You’re allowed to miss the people you knew, Castiel. They were important to you, too.”

 

“My choice means that they no longer exist,” Cas replies. “And sometimes I can forget that, but today I can’t.”

 

“I have a son, and a granddaughter, and I haven’t seen them in a long time,” Missouri replies. “I couldn’t give up who and what I am, and my son couldn’t handle that. I lost them. Sometimes we lose people along the way.”

 

“We do,” Cas replies, thinking of the others they’ve lost, some of whom they have back, like Ellen and Jo.

 

Missouri pats him on the shoulder. “I think this calls for ice cream. I know a place open late.”

 

He’s not sure he’s comforted by the conversation he has with Missouri, but he’s at least distracted from his own misery.

 

“We all make sacrifices, Castiel,” Missouri tells him when they part. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll get them back, just in a different way than you expect.”

 

Cas is comforted by that, at least to a certain extent, but he doesn’t sleep much that night, and he’s awake when Dean returns home. Although he’s not up to Dean’s level in the kitchen, he can at least make scrambled eggs and toast, and he’s doing just that when Dean walks in.

 

“Oh, hey, breakfast,” Dean says. “What are you doing up so early? I thought you’d still be sleeping.”

 

Cas shakes his head. “I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to make you breakfast.”

 

“You okay?” Dean asks, kissing him, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “Something bothering you? It’s not Sam, is it?”

 

“Just…missing something—someone,” Cas replies.

 

Dean’s expression goes soft. “Anything I can help you with?”

 

“No, not really,” Cas replies, although he can’t help but think about the conversation he hasn’t had with Dean.

 

“Hey, come on,” Dean says. “The expression on your face says there’s something I can probably do, even if it’s just to put your mind at ease.”

 

Cas shakes his head. “It’s too early.”

 

“Dude, I basically proposed marriage the other day,” Dean reminds him. “If it’s about our future, and there’s something you need, I need to know that.”

 

Cas hesitates, struggling to bring it up. In that other universe, Dean never talked about having children. Cas knows he’d have been a good father, that he’d _wanted_ to be a father for that brief period of time when he believed Ben might be his child.

 

“Hey, Cas, talk to me,” Dean urges. “This is obviously important to you.”

 

“Do you have any interest in being a parent?” Cas asks, the words sticking in his throat.

 

Dean blinks. “Uh, yeah, actually. I mean, I don’t know how we’re going to get it done, but I figure we could adopt, or maybe there’s another way. Other gay couples have managed it. Do you want to be a parent?”

 

“I do,” Cas replies. “I just didn’t know if you would.”

 

Dean moves the pan off the burner and pulls Cas into a hug. “You know I’d do just about anything for you, right? And yeah, this is something we should talk about, but we’re on the same page here. We’ll figure it out.”

 

“I miss them,” Cas chokes out.

 

“I know, Cas,” Dean murmurs. “I know. You can be with me and still miss them. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

 

Cas presses his face against Dean’s shoulder. “I’m happy with you, and my life with you. I don’t want you to think I’m not.”

 

“I don’t,” Dean says. “You can miss something and still appreciate what you have.”

 

And Cas can believe that this is enough.

 

~~~~~

 

Dean has never had a pregnancy scare, maybe because he’s never had a girlfriend with whom he’s had unprotected sex. Dean’s philosophy has always been that he doesn’t want to be a parent without stepping into it with eyes wide open.

 

He’s never really thought about what it would take to be a parent when he’s one-half of a gay couple. But Cas clearly wants it, and Dean wants it—eventually—so maybe he should start looking into it.

 

“You’re clearly thinking hard,” Sarah teases. “What’s up?”

 

“Cas asked if I wanted to be a parent,” Dean admits.

 

“You guys are _really_ getting serious,” she replies. “Are you on the same page?”

 

“He wants it, so do I, but I have no idea how to make that happen,” Dean admits.

 

Sarah blinks. “Okay, slow your roll, cowboy. You have time to figure that out, and also someone might be willing to help you out with that.”

 

“Someone, like you?” Dean asks.

 

“Someone like a lesbian,” Sarah replies. “Who likes you and Cas and wants to do you a solid, and is willing to co-parent. I’m just saying, there’s a whole community out there, Dean. There are people who are willing to help out, in whatever way. Maybe dial into it.”

 

Dean sighs. “I haven’t, have I?”

 

“Not really, no,” Sarah replies. “But you’re allowed. Everybody gets to define their own experience. But it might help to have a community since you’re with Cas, and it’s looking permanent.”

 

“You have any idea of where we should start?” Dean asks.

 

Sarah grins at him. “I thought you’d never ask. You dragged me to Moondoor, and now I get to return the favor by dragging you to my political action group.”

 

Dean grimaces. “I hate politics.”

 

“You may change your tune when they pass a law that bans gay couples from adopting,” Sarah points out with ruthless logic.

 

“Fair,” Dean admits. “I’d hate to have to move.”

 

“Sometimes, you have to be the change the world needs,” Sarah quips.

 

Dean snorts. “Yes, thank you, Oprah.”

 

“It’s the truth,” Sarah replies as Dean pulls up in front of the residence they’d been called to. “And now let’s get to work.”

 

The first patient of the evening is an elderly man with chest pain. His pulse is steady, though, and Dean’s pretty sure it’s heartburn, but they transport him anyway. It’s better safe than sorry.

 

From there, they have another call, this one more serious, of a car accident where they need another bus. Fire and rescue are still trying to cut someone out of one of the cars with the Jaws of Life, leaving the other accident victim for them.

 

It’s a rough call, because Dean can smell the booze on their patient as they load him into the back of the ambulance. There’s another body in the street, covered by a yellow tarp.

 

Sometimes, Dean hates his job. Judging from the expression on Sarah’s face, she feels the same way.

 

They deliver him to the ER, and let the trauma team take over. Dean’s glad he doesn’t have to work on the guy. He’s pretty sure he could push his feelings to the side, but he’s really glad he doesn’t have to.

 

There’s another call, this one a suicide attempt that’s thankfully thwarted. The poor kid misjudged the number of pills needed, and is unconscious but alive.

 

“God, I hate suicide calls,” Sarah mutters as they deliver her into the hands of the doctors. “I mean, I know what that’s like, but that just makes it worse.”

 

Dean isn’t sure what to say, but he finally lands on, “There, but for the grace of God go I, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” Sarah agrees. “For sure.”

 

Dean feels like he can’t ask for more than that, and doesn’t press.

 

The rest of the night is thankfully uneventful, but Dean is glad to be headed home, knowing that Cas is waiting for him. And, indeed, Cas immediately wraps himself around Dean when he slides into bed beside him.

 

“Good shift?” Cas mumbles.

 

“Long one,” Dean counters. “I’m glad to be coming home to you.”

 

Cas gives him a clumsy kiss, and his eyes slide shut. “Sleep.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, and thinks about how lucky he is.

 

**Then**

 

Dean doesn’t believe in God, not really. Even after he finds out about the supernatural, he’s not sure he buys into the idea of a higher power.

 

Sure, there are monsters, and he’s willing to believe there’s evil in the world—he’s seen enough of it to know that much—but a force for good?

 

Dean’s dad died in a fire when he was four. Where had God been then?

 

He’s 22 when he begins to think he might be wrong.

 

It’s the one truly close call he has during his time as a firefighter. They get called to a house fire, and the reporting party indicates it’s a kitchen fire gone slightly out of control.

 

By the time they’re on scene, “slightly out of control” means that there are flames coming out of half the windows on the ground floor. They begin fire suppression, but a woman comes running up to them. “Please, my baby was asleep on the second floor, and I couldn’t get to her!”

 

Dean shares a look with Mark, and then they look at their captain. “Go, and be careful,” he replies.

 

They pull on their breathing masks and start the flow of oxygen as they enter the house.

 

Dean leads the way upstairs, a few steps ahead of Mark, and he feels the stairs begin to give way underneath him. The fire is spreading a hell of a lot faster than expected, and Dean yells at Mark, “Get back! We can’t both go up!”

 

Mark shouts back, “What are you going to do?”

 

“I’m going to get the baby, and I’ll go out the window!” Dean yells over the crackling flames.

 

Even when you know what you’re doing, fire brings chaos—smoke and flames combine to disorient, and the roar of the blaze makes it difficult to hear anything. Even though the fire started on the first floor, heat and smoke rise, and Dean has a hard time finding the bedroom with the kid.

 

When he finally enters the bedroom, the toddler is standing in her crib, emitting hiccupping sobs that don’t pause when she sees Dean.

 

“Hey, baby,” he calls, wishing he’d had time to get the name of the child from her mom.

 

She squirms and lets out a cry, and then starts to cough. Dean thinks it’s a minor miracle that she’s even conscious, but the smoke isn’t too bad, maybe because the door had been tightly closed.

 

His radio crackles with a belated warning. “Winchester! Flashover!”

 

The warning comes too late. The fireball that lights up the hallway sends a blast of heat and flame through the bedroom door, and Dean tries the window.

 

The problem is that he knows opening the window will introduce oxygen into the environment, which could bring the fire into the bedroom. But he can’t go out any other way, so he has to risk it.

 

The window appears to be jammed, so he pulls out his ax and breaks the window. The influx of oxygen does exactly what Dean feared it would do, and pulls the fire into the room. It climbs the walls and rushes towards them. The window is on the small side, and it’s hard to get through in his bulky gear, but there’s no time to leave it behind.

 

Dean doesn’t think the kid’s going to make it if he just shoves her out the window, but that might be his best shot at one of them surviving.

 

He glances back over his shoulder, and the flames are—receding.

 

“The actual fuck?” Dean mutters. Fire doesn’t _do_ that.

 

“Dean!” Mark calls.

 

They’ve moved the ladder up to the side of the house, over the roof, and Mark grabs the kid, which frees up Dean’s hands to get through the window.

 

As soon as they’re out and on the ladder, the fire consumes that room, too.

 

“Aw, man,” Mark says. “That was a close one.”

 

“Closer than you know,” Dean replies.

 

The woman meets them with outstretched arms, pulling her daughter into her arms. “Oh, it’s a miracle! It’s a miracle.”

 

And Dean can’t help but agree just a little bit.

 

**Now**

 

Cas hasn’t tried to contact his father since finding himself in this new world, but he hasn’t really had a reason to do so.

 

Now, though, there are things weighing heavily on his mind. He’s had time to think about it, and he doesn’t know if they’re in a parallel universe, like Apocalypse World, or if something else is going on. If he’s left his friends and family behind in a desperate bid to fix things.

 

Cas can’t live with the idea that he might have abandoned them for the small chance of having Dean back again. And he _needs_ to know.

 

His prayer is stilted, maybe even half-hearted. He’s not sure he wants the answers he seeks, but being around Dean’s family has made him miss his own.

 

Dean is at work, and Cas can’t sleep, and so he prays.

 

“What’s wrong, Castiel?”

 

When Cas opens his eyes, Chuck is there, standing in the middle of Dean’s living room, hands in his pockets. It’s jarring to see him, since he’s a part of that other life, the life Cas willingly left behind.

 

He misses that life sometimes, and then again, he doesn’t.

 

Cas swallows. “Nothing is _wrong_. I just—I have to know what happened to the others.”

 

Chuck gives him a penetrating look. “You’ve realized what you really gave up, and it’s not just being an angel.”

 

“It’s my family,” Cas replies. “I thought I’d still have them.”

 

“You do, or you will,” Chuck says gently. “You knew it would be different.”

 

“I didn’t know how different it would be,” Cas counters. “And I have to know, did I leave them behind?”

 

Chuck shakes his head. “That world doesn’t exist anymore. You didn’t leave anyone behind.”

 

There’s some part of Cas that knows all of this, but hasn’t wanted to accept it, because of the magnitude of loss. And he hates that he feels that way, because he’s gained so much.

 

The door opens and Dean enters. Cas expects Chuck to disappear, but he stays where he is, watching Dean with a sort of benevolent curiosity. “Hello, Dean.”

 

Dean frowns. “Do I know you?”

 

“That depends,” Chuck replies. “I’ve been watching over you for a long time. Do you remember the fire where you saved Maddy Price?”

 

Dean turns white as a sheet. “Who _are_ you?”

 

“Call me Chuck,” he replies. “I was just stopping in to see Castiel.”

 

“Cas, I really need you to tell me what’s going on,” Dean pleads. “Because I’m getting freaked out.”

 

“This is God,” Cas replies numbly. “And I asked—I needed to know if I made a mistake.”

 

Dean is clearly struggling to believe this turn of events. “Okay. I’m having a really hard time with this right now.”

 

“I can perform a miracle if you like,” Chuck offers.

 

“What kind of miracle?” Dean asks. “Like taking care of this cold?”

 

“If you like,” Chuck replies, and surprise crosses Dean’s face.

 

“I don’t—I feel fine now,” Dean says, his expression dumbfounded. “That cold got me sent home from work early.”

 

“A relatively minor miracle, considering that Cas here asked me to remake the whole world for you,” Chuck responds. “For what it’s worth, I think Castiel made the right choice, given what was coming.”

 

And then he’s gone, and Cas has no idea how he’s going to explain this to Dean.

 

~~~~~

 

Dean has been feeling run down for a couple of days, with the beginnings of a sore throat, but he still planned to make it through his shift.

 

He gets two hours in, though, and Sarah insists that he go home. “I don’t want what you’ve got, Winchester. Go home, rest up, and feel better.”

 

Dean knows she’s right, and that finals are right around the corner. He doesn’t want to be sick while he’s taking his exams.

 

Besides, there’s no sense in spreading his germs around. He knows better than that.

 

He’s a little surprised to see that Cas is still awake, judging by the light in the window, but Cas hasn’t been sleeping well lately, not since Thanksgiving. Dean suspects it has something to do with missing his family. The holidays can be hard, which is one of the reasons he and Charlie try to keep an eye on their people who don’t have anybody.

 

Dean figures the best thing he can do for Cas is to just be there for when he’s finally ready to talk about it.

 

Dean is even more surprised to find a stranger in his living room, in what looks like a stand-off with Cas. He’s floored when the stranger greets him by name, although maybe Cas mentioned him, and it’s probably easy to identify him.

 

But it’s the _way_ the guy says his name, like he’s known Dean for ages—and then he knows about the fire, and knows the name of the child Dean saved.

 

Dean hasn’t told _anybody_ about that fire, or the way the flames receded. He certainly hadn’t told Cas, so there’s no way for the stranger, Chuck, to have heard it from Cas.

 

And then Chuck offers a miracle, and Dean suddenly feels one hundred percent better. Not just better, though, really good, any lingering tiredness gone.

 

It shouldn’t be possible; it _isn’t_ possible, but somehow Dean believes it. Or at least he doesn’t _not_ believe it.

 

“I don’t—I feel fine now,” Dean says, incredulity turning into—not wonder, not exactly, but something not far from it. “That cold got me sent home from work early.”

 

“A relatively minor miracle, considering that Cas here asked me to remake the whole world for you,” Chuck responds. “For what it’s worth, I think Castiel made the right choice, given what was coming.”

 

And then Chuck, or God, or whoever, is just gone, and Dean is left to stare at Cas, who looks like a deer caught in headlights.

 

“I’ve been really patient, Cas, and I meant it. You don’t have to tell me anything, but I just had someone claiming to be God in my living room,” Dean says. “I think you need to give me something.”

 

“Technically, he never claimed he was God,” Cas counters, “I did.”

 

Dean appreciates the deflection, since it’s masterful, but he’s really confused right now. “Granted, but he didn’t deny it either, and that doesn’t explain why he was in my—our living room.”

 

The change in pronouns has Cas’ shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

 

“Honestly, I’m not sure what’s going on, or what you didn’t tell me, but given what I just saw, I’m not sure I would have believed you,” Dean admits. “Although, I hope I would have listened at least. I’ve seen enough to know that there are things beyond my ken.”

 

“What did Chuck mean about the fire?” Cas asks, clearly in a bid to change the subject.

 

Dean allows it for now. “One of my last big calls for the fire department involved a house fire that got pretty bad. There was a kid in an upstairs bedroom, and I ended up going in alone. I should have died, to be honest. The fire was behaving oddly. It retreated, and it shouldn’t have, and then it flared up after me and the kid were out.”

 

“You were protected,” Cas murmurs.

 

Dean shrugs. “I guess. It was the first time I believed there might be a higher power, some force for good. Cas, talk to me.”

 

“I’m afraid you’ll hate me,” Cas admits.

 

Dean closes the distance between them, putting his hands on either side of Cas’ face. “Cas, you are the love of my life, and there is no universe where I hate you.”

 

A smile makes the corners of Cas’ mouth twitch. “There might be.”

 

“Doubtful,” Dean replies. “Talk to me, man.”

 

“Do you believe in alternate universes?” Cas asks, sounding a little desperate. “Or parallel universes?”

 

Dean’s thought about it, like any good geek would, but he’s not sure how to respond. “Sure, theoretically. I think it’s possible, anyway.”

 

“What if I told you there was another universe where your dad didn’t die in the fire, and your mom did, and you and Sam grew up to be hunters?”

 

Dean blinks. “I can’t really say that possibility crossed my mind.”

 

“And there are angels and demons, and to save everyone, you agreed to serve as a vessel for the archangel Michael?” Cas asks.

 

Dean is pretty sure Cas isn’t crazy, but he clearly believes all of this, even though it sounds a lot like he’s talking about a story line from Moondoor. Just even further outside the realm of possibility. “I’d probably say that you were reading too much fantasy, but since God was just in my living room, I’m listening.”

 

“And we couldn’t get you back, so I asked God—Chuck—for help,” Cas explains. “He said that he couldn’t interfere with free will, but he could change the course of events.”

 

Dean has no idea what that means. “Okay.”

 

“I just had to give up being an angel,” Cas says. “And everything I knew. I wasn’t going to make contact with you. I just wanted you to be safe.”

 

Dean still isn’t sure that he believes this story, but he believes that _Cas_ does. “Does anybody else know about this?”

 

“Missouri,” Cas admits. “She knew when she saw me.”

 

“Okay, we’ll go talk to her tomorrow,” Dean says. “Not that I don’t believe you, but this is a lot.” Cas begins to pull away, but Dean pulls him close. “No, hey, Cas. You are the best fucking thing that has ever happened to me, however you happened to me. And—look, I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but if what you’re telling me is true, you remade the whole fucking world for me. You love me.”

 

“More than anything,” Cas agrees hoarsely.

 

Dean kisses his forehead. “Let’s go to bed. Do you think you can sleep tonight?”

 

Cas shrugs. “I don’t know.”

 

“Okay, then you can tell me about this other universe while we’re in bed,” Dean replies. “You can tell me about the people you left behind. Did you know Sam?”

 

“He was one of my best friends,” Cas admits.

 

Dean pulls him over to the couch, and persuades Cas to stretch out on top of him. He’s not sure how he feels right now, but he decides to go with it. “That must have really sucked.”

 

“I knew your mom, too, but not well,” Cas admits.

 

Dean hesitates to poke a hole in Cas’ story. “I thought she was dead.”

 

“She was,” Cas agrees. “She was resurrected.”

 

Dean has no idea what to do with that. “Sounds complicated.”

 

“It was.”

 

“And us?” Dean says.

 

“We were supposed to go out on a date before everything happened,” Cas admits. “I think. You asked me to go out with you without anybody else.”

 

Dean laughs. “Yeah. That would be a date, Cas. Like I said, I don’t think there’s any universe where I don’t love you.”

 

“We both have work tomorrow,” Cas points out.

 

“I had a cold, but I’m pretty sure Sarah will not believe an act of God, and since I was sick, all you have to say is that you picked something up from me,” Dean says. “And I think we need to see Missouri tomorrow.”

 

“Dean—“

 

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Dean says, because it’s true. Cas’ story is outlandish, but it explains so much. “It’s just that I think we’ll both feel better if we do.”

 

“You don’t hate me?”

 

“Why would I hate you?” Dean asks.

 

“Because I made a choice that changed your life without consulting you,” Cas replies.

 

“But to save me,” Dean counters. “And dude, you remade the whole world for me. You gave up everything for me. I can’t fault you for that. I’d do the same for you, if I had a direct line to God.”

 

“You do,” Cas counters. “He likes you.”

 

“Well, considering he saved me in that fire, I guess I can’t argue,” Dean replies.

 

Cas buries his face in Dean’s shoulder. “I really thought you’d react worse than this.”

 

“Well, I can’t say I predicted this, but I love you,” Dean says, deciding that he’ll repeat that often enough that Cas believes him. “I will always love you.”

 

And maybe God really was in his living room, and maybe that eased the way to Dean’s belief. He’s not sure, but he knows what Cas is to him.

 

And there’s a part of him, somewhere, that knows Cas is telling the truth.

 

Maybe it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but Dean loves him. That’s all that matters.

 

~~~~~

 

Cas has always known that he would have to tell Dean the truth one day. He hadn’t expected it to go down like this, and his father—Chuck—had been singularly unhelpful, but that’s nothing new.

 

He doesn’t mind calling in sick, though, not when Dean stays wrapped around him, clearly intent on providing reassurance.  He makes Cas breakfast—eggs and toast—and Cas calls Missouri to see if they can meet up with her.

 

“Of course, you can, Angel-Man,” Missouri replies easily. “You and Dean are welcome. Come by my place. I have a break in clients at eleven.”

 

“Are we on?” Dean asks.

 

Cas nods. “She said we could meet at her at eleven.”

 

Dean shrugs. “Okay, then that’s what we’ll do. Don’t worry about it, man.”

 

“I can’t help but worry about it,” Cas admits.

 

“Well, I can understand that, since you’ve been freaked about it for months now,” Dean says reasonably. “It’s going to take you time to unwind.”

 

Cas still can’t quite believe that Dean is being so cool about all of this, but Dean has tended to roll with the punches since the beginning.

 

This version of Dean is flexible in ways the man Cas had known was not.

 

When they pull up in front of Missouri’s house, Cas wonders about the sorts of people who would be willing to go to Missouri to learn about their future. He thinks he might be one of those people. But then, he’s fairly certain that Missouri has been trying to tell him how this would go from day one, when she kept trying to reassure him.

 

Missouri opens the door before they can knock, a wide smile gracing her face. “Well, I see things are going well with you two.”

 

“I had my first encounter with God,” Dean jokes. “He was kind of a dick.”

 

Missouri chuckles. “I always thought so, too, although he can come in useful, as I’m sure you know.” She motions them into an inner room. “I know what you boys want to talk about.”

 

“It’s probably fairly obvious,” Dean admits when Cas doesn’t say anything, the words catching in his throat.

 

“Come in and sit down,” Missouri says. “I’ll get you boys some tea.”

 

They sit down around a small table that Missouri must use for readings, and Cas sips his tea—it’s Missouri’s sweet tea again.

 

“Cas, honey, you need to breathe,” Missouri advises him. “Humans need air, and you’re human now.”

 

Dean stretches out an arm behind Cas. “And you knew about all of this?”

 

Missouri smiles. “I _am_ psychic, Dean, and Castiel is the most interesting person I’ve met in a very long time.”

 

Dean nods. “And it’s all true.”

 

“In the sense that it happened, yes,” Missouri replies. “But not in the sense that it happened here, or that it will happen again. God took care of that when he changed that one small thing. Our choices have consequences, and those consequences ripple out and affect so many things.”

 

“Do you—do you know what will happen in the future?” Cas asks.

 

Missouri reaches out and grasps his hand. “Oh, Castiel. You’ll have your family again. Maybe it won’t look quite how you thought it would, but it will work out.”

 

Cas swallows hard. “And—“

 

“Have faith,” Missouri advises. “In this case, I can honestly say that God has a plan.”

 

“You okay with that answer?” Dean asks him. “Because if I can do anything—“

 

“You’ve already done it,” Cas insists, because he has Dean, and that’s more than he expected to have.

 

Missouri beams at them. “You boys are going to be just fine.”

 

And Cas believes her.

 

“You feel any better now?” Dean asks as they leave.

 

“I do,” he admits.

 

“You feel up to having dinner with my mom? She asked, and she could always tell when I was faking sick, so I didn’t even try,” Dean admits. “Although, she does know that I have tonight off.”

 

“So, you’re saying that you have no choice but I do,” Cas counters.

 

Dean laughs. “Yeah, pretty much, but I won’t hold it against you if you’re not up to it.”

 

Cas takes a deep breath, and knows that he needs to get to know Mary—and Sam—for who they are now, and not who they were. “I’d like to see her.”

 

“Great,” Dean replies. “I’ll let her know that we’ll pick up a pizza on the way.”

 

“What do you want to do this afternoon?” Cas asks.

 

Dean smirks at him. “Oh, I can think of a few things.”

 

“Okay, yeah,” Cas says. “I’d like you to fuck me.”

 

“Warn a guy,” Dean chokes out. “We have a ten-minute drive home.”

 

Cas grins. “It’ll give you time to think about what you want to do.”

 

“Oh, I _know_ what I want to do,” Dean counters.

 

He might speed a little on the way to his apartment, but that just causes the anticipation to build. They stumble into the bedroom, and Dean frames Cas’ face with his hands. “Just so you know, I’m the luckiest fucking guy in the world.”

 

Cas smiles. “I think that might be me.”

 

~~~~~

 

Dean can’t believe that he used to dread dinners with his mom. Right now, he and Cas have a couple of pizzas from his mom’s favorite local joint, with a salad.

 

“I’m glad you could both make it,” Mary says, giving them each a hug in turn. “How are you feeling?”

 

“A lot better,” Dean replies, winking at Cas.

 

Mary gives them a reproving look, although she smiles. “Playing hooky?”

 

“I had a cold,” Dean defends. “And Cas thought he might be coming down with something, too.”

 

There’s no point in telling her about that other world. It won’t matter to her, assuming she even believes it, which is dubious.

 

“Sure,” Mary says. “I was young and in love once, too.”

 

Dean glances at Cas, who looks more at ease than he has in days, a small smile playing around his mouth. “Were you?” Cas asks.

 

“Don’t encourage her,” Dean orders. “The last thing I need is to hear about my mom and dad’s nooner.”

 

Cas frowns. “Nooner?”

 

“It’s when you take a lunch break and have sex,” Mary replies. “And I will spare you the details to preserve Dean’s memory of his parents as completely sexless.”

 

“Hey, you had two kids,” Dean protests. “I just don’t need to know more than that.”

 

“Wait until you’re a father,” Mary advises. “You’ll view it as your job to embarrass your kids, too.”

 

And then she looks stricken, and Dean doesn’t want to leave that look on her face. “Actually, we’ve been talking about that. I mean, someday.”

 

Mary lets out a relieved laugh. “Okay. Well, you both are going to make amazing fathers when it does happen.”

 

“Let’s eat pizza,” Dean says. “And, Mom, I promise to let you help plan the wedding.”

 

Mary pulls them both inside. “You joke about that now, but this is the closest I’m going to get.”

 

“Only if you promise to introduce us to Bobby,” Dean says.

 

“He’s coming down around Christmas,” Mary replies. “So, yes, you’ll meet him.”

 

“Good,” Dean replies. “I’d like to meet the guy that stole your heart.”

 

Mary snorts. “He didn’t steal anything. I gave it away, and I think you’ll understand when you meet him.”

 

“Probably, and I suppose you want my help with Sam,” Dean replies.

 

Mary looks a little surprise. “You would?”

 

“Mom, I just want you to be happy,” Dean replies. “Does he make you happy?”

 

“He does,” Mary confirms. “I just want the same for you,” and she reaches out to touch Cas’ arm. “Thank you for that.”

 

Cas blushes. “It’s been my pleasure.”

 

And if nothing else, Dean feels fully accepted by his mom for the first time in a long time.

 

As they leave, Dean reaches for Cas’ hand. “Thanks.”

 

“For what?” Cas asks.

 

“You made my relationship with my mom 100% better,” Dean replies.

 

Cas frowns. “I thought I made it worse.”

 

“No, Mom sees me, and who I am for the first time, and she accepts me,” Dean replies. “She accepts _us_. She wants to plan our wedding, and she’s planning for our kids. She keeps comparing our relationship to her marriage. This is great.”

 

“It’s no less than you deserve,” Cas replies.

 

“Same goes for you, too, Cas,” Dean replies. “We both deserve it.”

 

And they deserve a life together.

 

**Epilogue**

 

Cas stirs, rolling over to find Dean watching him, a fond smile on his face. “Hey.”

 

“Hey yourself,” Dean replies.

 

“Do we need to be up?” Cas asks.

 

Dean smiles more broadly. “No, we still have an hour before we meet Charlie, and we’re not due at my mom’s house until 4.”

 

“Then what are you doing?” Cas asks.

 

“Watching you like a creeper,” Dean replies. “So, obviously, there are two creepers in this relationship.”

 

Cas groans. “Am I not going to ever live that down?”

 

“Never,” Dean replies, with a peck on Cas’ lips. “But not in a bad way. It will be something we tell our kids. Speaking of, I think you should move in full time. I know we’ve hesitated because it’s moving too fast, but it’s not, because you were living with me in that other life, right?”

 

Cas hesitates. “Yes. Or, I was living where you were living, as were many other people, but I would like to live with you.”

 

Dean grins, and his expression reminds Cas of that Dean he’d known, who had told Cas how happy he was to have him at the bunker. “Okay. We can move you over at any time.”

 

“There isn’t really a need,” Cas replies. “I’ve moved everything that matters here already, and I’m not attached to anything that’s left.”

 

“Everything came from Chuck, huh?” Dean asks. “That’s what you meant about my place feeling more like home?”

 

Cas hesitates. “ _You_ are home, but yes.”

 

Dean pulls him close. “I love you.”

 

“And I love you,” Cas replies.

 

“Okay,” Dean says. “Well, we have a busy day scheduled, and a campaign to plan with Charlie, and Sam will be there this evening.”

 

“When is his girlfriend going to be here?” Cas asks.

 

“New Year’s,” Dean replies. “Same with Bobby. Should be fun, if only so I can watch Sam’s head explode while he’s trying to maintain his cool around his girlfriend. Why?”

 

“Just curious,” Cas replies.

 

“Did you know Bobby?”

 

Bits and pieces of Cas’ past have been coming out. Dean doesn’t ask many questions, probably because he doesn’t want to know, or maybe because he’s afraid of the answers. “I did. Two versions of him, in fact, but he was pretty much the same.”

 

Dean laughs. “That’s good to know. You okay?”

 

“I’m great,” Cas replies.

 

And he thinks they’re both going to be okay.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Castiel makes a deal with God, which results in an altered timeline where John is the one who dies, and not Mary. He gives up being an angel, and that results in a world that's very different.


End file.
